


To Light The Way Home

by Miko



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Authority Play, Bisexuality, Dirty Talk, Exhibitionism, F/F, F/M, Happy Ending, Open Relationships, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Shower Sex, Spanking, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, Vaginal Sex, commitment issues, hotwifing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 29,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miko/pseuds/Miko
Summary: The man known as Soldier: 76 has exiled himself to a dark and solitary existence, for the sake of justice and vengeance. But there are a few people left who still care about Jack Morrison, and Tracer seems determined not to let him lock himself out in the cold. Jack knows he's growing too attached to a woman who already has a lover and a life he can't be part of. The closer he allows himself to get, the more he fears he'll destroy himself and her both.Lena Oxton didn't mean to fall for her former commander. Emily will always be her beloved partner, but there's room enough in Lena's heart for one more - if only she can convincehimof that. She's not going to let Jack get away easily, no matter how hard he tries to run from what he wants so badly. Now if only she can remind him that he still has a place in the world to belong, and 'home' isn't a dirty word.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Although I marked this as F/F & F/M both, there are no explicit sex scenes between Lena and Emily. Even so, the relationship is still very much present and a part of Lena's life and heart. I promise no bashing or erasure of Emily!
> 
> ETA: This was written long before the reveal that Morrison is gay (and confirmation by the devs that he is NOT bi), and at the time I didn't know the devs had also confirmed that Lena is lesbian, not bi. Sooo I guess it's an AU? I swear it was not my intention to erase them being LGBT.

The untouched jungles of South America were hot enough to roast in, humid enough to feel like you were drowning, and so wildly overgrown that even the man known as Soldier: 76 was exhausted after a full day of slogging his way through it. 

Let alone after two days in and another two days out, with a nasty battle against a group of drug- and gun-runners in the middle. He should know; this was the third time he’d done it. His second attempt had damn near killed him.

Which was why he’d finally, reluctantly, called for backup from the few trustworthy allies he had left. Asking for help was not something Jack Morrison had ever done easily, and especially not these days. 

But he had to admit that with Tracer fighting at his back - and to either side, and across the battlefield, so fast it sometimes seemed she must be in two places at once - the two of them made short work of the cartel that had given him so much trouble.

Though he knew she’d never utter a word of complaint, he’d worried the hard trek would be too much for her to handle, tiny slip of a girl that she was. Her specialty was speed, not stamina.

He should have known better, and Jack was appropriately ashamed of himself. Oxton handled it like a trooper, never flagging. Hell, she'd cajoled _him_ into 'just one more klick, Commander!' before setting up camp last night. 

Where she got all that energy from, he'd never know. He was fairly certain it wasn’t a byproduct of the chronal accelerator, but rather a basic part of her personality.

Now they were half a day’s haul from the extraction point, but the sun was already low in the sky. Their pace was slowing, and it was Jack’s fault as much as Oxton’s. Both of them were exhausted and aching, sweaty and grimy, and it felt like he might never be clean again.

So when they hacked through a particularly dense tangle of vines and emerged to find themselves on the bank of a river, not far downstream from a gentle waterfall, he wasn't surprised that her first reaction was to suggest they wash up.

He was surprised that she made the suggestion by starting to strip down, however.

"Look at that," she enthused as she pulled the chronal accelerator rig over her head. She set it down carefully, then went straight for the zipper on her tight jacket. "It's like it was made just for us. Bagsy on first wash! I _am_ the one who blew the ammo depot. Got soot all over me."

Realizing he was staring, Jack jerked his gaze away from her hand on the zipper. He was too old to be acting like a randy teenager, damn it, but she clearly hadn't thought this through. 

"There could still be a few strays out there, looking for revenge." Highly unlikely, but Jack hadn't lived this long by being careless or distracted. "I'd have to stand watch."

"Obviously." The thin t-shirt didn’t last any longer than the jacket, as she grabbed the hem and pulled it up. Her voice came out muffled by the fabric until her head popped free. "I'll be quick, promise. Then you can have a turn, and I'll stand watch."

Jack was _definitely_ too old to be blushing. Thank god the mask and visor hid his face, because she’d undoubtedly tease him if she saw. "I need to keep an eye on both banks, up and down river. Just because the base is behind us doesn’t mean they couldn’t come from any direction."

"Okay, dad." It was her standard comeback when he lectured her about something she thought was unnecessary, but in this context it was distinctly jarring. She was standing there topless, hands busy on the fastening of her pants. Her body was lithe and muscled, breasts high and firm, small but enough to be an enticing handful. ‘Fatherly’ was the last thing he felt right now.

"Damn it, Oxton. You know what I mean." Jack turned his head, resisting the impulse to watch her shuck off those tight pants. The sound of the fabric as it peeled off her skin made it hard to think about anything else. “‘I can’t keep my back turned.”

"Oops, sorry! Am I offending your delicate sensibilities?" Her giggle was full of mischief, and held not a single drop of apology or repentance. "I'm not spending another day all grimy like this if I don’t have to. We're both adults, surely we can handle it."

Sometimes it was hard for him to remember that she _was_ an adult. Her youthful appearance combined with her effervescent cheer made it easy to forget that she'd faced more adversity and killed more enemies than most people would in five lifetimes. 

It didn't help that he’d been her commanding officer since she was a fresh-faced cadet, and all new recruits seemed like babies to him. He might not feel fatherly at the moment, but he was more than old enough to _be_ her father.

Not so old that a gorgeous young woman stripping down in front of him was something he could easily ignore. Much as he hated to play into the lecherous old man stereotype, she was definitely pushing his limits. And it had been a very long time since the last chance he’d had to enjoy a sight like that. 

A shriek pulled his attention back to her, concerned, but he found her rising from the river where she'd apparently jumped in all at once. "Damn, that's cold!" she exclaimed, shivering as she wrapped her arms around her waist, laughing at her own reaction. 

The posture pushed her breasts up and together, framed by her thin arms in a picture perfect image. Her nipples were furled tight from the cold water, hard peaks that begged to be warmed up by hand or mouth. The lush curves of her ass were visible beneath the surface, flexing enticingly as she waded toward the waterfall.

Biting down on a groan, Jack reined himself in once more. She was expecting him to act like a professional adult and teammate. He could do that. He could, damn it. 

"Should I be worried your girlfriend is going to scratch my eyes out?" he asked, keeping his tone very dry to hide the rasp of lust.

"You'd have to meet her, first," Oxton pointed out, ducking beneath the spray of water. It slicked her hair down around her face, surprisingly long when it wasn't in the spikes. "Come in out of the cold of your self-imposed exile. I know! We should have a victory celebration dinner. At Gibraltar, with Winston."

How the hell had his concern about her girlfriend being upset transformed into a dinner invitation for him to meet the woman? "I'm _not_ coming for dinner."

Bad enough he’d been forced to contact them for this mission. Being spotted with him could bring a world of hell down on their heads, with the number of new and old enemies he had on his tail these days. He intended to limit the contact as much as possible.

"We'll just see about that." There was smug satisfaction in her voice, as if simply issuing the invitation made it a fait accompli, and his protest was pointless. "Don't worry. Em's not the jealous type. She knows she's the only woman in my heart. She does love to hear about my adventures - all of them." She winked, then closed her eyes and tipped her head back to let the water sluice over her face.

Was she actually implying her girlfriend enjoyed hearing about Oxton's sexual encounters with other people?

Yeah, Jack was pretty sure she was. From anyone else he'd have been suspicious of a claim that their partner didn't mind them playing with others, but Tracer was known on a global scale for her honest, forthright nature.

Of course, she was also known for her fresh-faced, innocent appeal, which category this did _not_ fall under. "I don't remember you having a reputation for flirting like this. Or is it just that nobody mentioned it where their crusty old commander could hear?"

Usually the flirts at any Watchpoint were identifiable pretty damn quickly. Especially since Jack made it his business to know more about those under his command than just what they could do in the field, whenever possible. As far as he’d been aware, she was faithful to her girlfriend back in London.

"I don't flirt with just anybody." Opening her eyes again, she gave him a smile that was disconcertingly shy on a woman who clearly didn't mind having him see her naked. "Only people I like _and_ trust. The ones I'm willing to let close, who I know won't judge me for it, or think less of me."

The admission surprised him with how hard it hit him, warmth curling through him as much from embarrassed affection as heated desire. Of course he knew that she trusted him, or she wouldn't be here with him at all. But that was trusting him with her life. What she was talking about was trusting him with something much deeper and more important than her physical well-being.

There was no question now that this _was_ deliberate flirting. Did she think he was a safe target to play with because he was an old man and her former commander, unlikely to return the interest?

No. She knew she was pushing the line, it was written all over her body language. And that comment about Emily enjoying the stories… Christ, she actually meant this.

Hesitant, not quite sure he remembered how, Jack dared to tease her back. Deadpan, he asked, "So what you're saying is that you didn't like me enough, back then? Because I'd sure as hell remember you pulling a stunt like this."

"You were my commanding officer," she protested, scandalized at last. "Even I have limits. And don't let Emily or Winston tell you otherwise!"

"Winston?" He hadn't meant that to sound quite so incredulous, but... surely she didn't mean...

She shook a scolding finger at him. "It’s what's beneath the surface that matters. Winston's a person too, and a sweetheart at that. Plus, he saved my life! But no, it’s not what you’re thinking. He sees me as a little sister he needs to look out for - which means he’s well aware of the trouble I get into."

The reminder of what Winston had done for her drew Jack's eyes briefly to the chronal accelerator, blinking and whirling on the ground. "Is it safe for you to have this off?"

"I can go a while without it, if I'm careful not to do anything that might jar me loose, like try to blink," she assured him. "Syncing me back up in the first place was the hard part, and if I _do_ slip and get dissociated again, it's a right royal pain to find my way back so he can fix it. Be a trick trying to change clothes or sleep, if I couldn't ever take it off! Or shower, for that matter."

Or shower, indeed. Giving in at last to his need and her clear invitation, Jack let his gaze glide over her from head to toe, and back again. She was gorgeous, lithe and limber, sleek under the water in a way that made him think about licking it off her. 

Utterly unashamed, she stretched her arms over her head, arching her back to push her breasts forward. Dark curls gleamed between her thighs, neatly trimmed and slick with moisture that might or might not have been entirely water. 

Pants that were perfectly comfortable fifteen minutes ago had grown much too tight, and Jack shifted to try to ease the pressure without being obvious about it. He wasn't quite willing to reach down and blatantly adjust himself, unsure how far he was allowed to take this surreal game she was playing. Hell, he was half convinced he'd passed out somewhere along the way.

Wouldn't be the first time he'd dreamed about her, if he was being honest. _Definitely_ wouldn't be the last, after this. 

"All right, Commander?" she asked, too sweetly innocent to be believable. "Looking a bit overheated, there. Need to cool off?"

"I'm not your commander anymore," he reminded her, voice coming out as a growl. "You can't have it both ways."

"Does that mean I can call you Jack?" The delight in her expression lit up her eyes. 

"The hell's wrong with 'Morrison'?"

She laughed, and splashed water his his direction, though it fell far short. "You can't have it both ways," she mocked him. "Morrison is formal, and if I'm being formal, you're getting 'Commander'. You're welcome to call me Lena, you know."

She'd been either 'Oxton' or her callsign 'Tracer' to him since she’d first joined Overwatch, an enthusiastic, too-earnest cadet scolding _him_ about doing the right thing when it was needed. 

It felt... intimate, to think of her as Lena. In a way that had nothing to do with sexual interest, and everything to do with emotional attachment. Even more so for her to use _his_ given name, something a subordinate agent would never dare to do, even if their superior officer took the liberty.

"You inviting me down there to join you?" he asked, sidestepping the issue of the names. 

"If you're not too shy," she teased. "Wouldn't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Bullshit," he retorted, and she giggled again. "I'm supposed to be keeping watch. Those terrorists..."

She made a rude noise to interrupt him. "The few tangos still alive are scrambling to try to put out the fire caused when I blew up their ammo. I was blinking all over our back trail the first half day, to make sure they wouldn't be able to follow it. If they haven't found us by now, they aren't going to."

He could argue that. He _should_ argue that, damn it. It never paid to be careless, no matter how sure you were that the enemy was subdued.

But she was standing there, wet and willing and _wanting_ , and even his willpower had limits.

Jack was moving before he gave himself conscious permission, prowling along the riverbank like a stalking tiger. Reaching up, he unhooked his mask and visor, pulling them free and exposing his face for the first time since he'd come to her for backup.

Her breath caught, eyes going wide, and for a moment he thought she was reacting badly to his scars. She bit her bottom lip, drawing his attention to the lush curve, and when he met her eyes he saw nothing but eager anticipation. Well, if she was so easily able to see past Winston's fur to the damn decent man beneath, maybe a couple of hard-earned scars and the wear-and-tear of decades wouldn't bother her, after all.

Lena held her ground as he closed the distance, water streaming all around her body, hands slightly raised as if she couldn't quite keep herself from reaching for him. With every step Jack shed another piece of his equipment or clothing, feeling as if he lost ten pounds of weight from his shoulders with each dropped item. 

How long had it been since he'd thought about _anything_ beyond death and destruction? Not since he'd 'died', certainly, but how long even before that? Overwatch had been his whole world. 

Once, a very long time ago, there had been room for laughter and play in his life. Before they'd promoted Jack to commander over Gabriel Reyes, and the bitterness of resentment soured the best friendship he'd ever had. After that Jack had grown wary, less willing to open up to others, to believe the best of people.

Lena always believed the best of others. She was so open, so deliberately vulnerable, it could be painful to watch. Her light shone so brightly it could blind her at times, but she never let it dim. And right now, she was aiming it straight at him.

By the time he dropped into the river beside her, Jack was down to nothing but his pants. He waded into the spray, uncaring that the material was soaking up the icy water. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged. "Figured you'd want to do some of the unwrapping."

God, he was rusty at this. ‘Charming and flirtatious’ had once been second nature, but there were years of deaths, betrayals, and heartaches since then. Lena didn't seem to mind, her smile softening and turning heated at the same time as she reached for his waistband.

Catching his belt loops, she tugged him close and stretched up on tiptoe. He took the hint and leaned over to close the distance, capturing her mouth with his in a searing kiss. She made an eager sound and parted for him with no resistance, though her tongue tangled with his as soon as he pushed in. 

Those incredible breasts rubbed against his chest, nipples catching against old scars in a way that made her moan and writhe for more. She was anything but passive, hands already busy at his fly, all but ripping it open so she could shove the pants and his boxers down. Free at last, his cock throbbed as he kicked the clothes away. 

When she skated her nails carefully down the shaft, he barely swallowed a shout of pleasure. He hadn't thought she _had_ long nails, too impractical in a life of battle and rough living. Apparently they were just long enough to do interesting things to delicate skin. Firming his hold on her hips, he yanked her harder against him, trapping his aching cock against her taut abs. 

She did it again, riding that fine line between pleasure and pain, arching against him to press their bodies as tight as she could. She was too damn short for them to line up properly, so he slipped one hand beneath her ass and lifted her against him.

A startled noise escaped her, and she broke the kiss as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders for balance. Tipping her head back, she laughed in delight. "Forgot you were so strong. Show-off."

"Showing off would have been ripping that leather jacket off you," he told her, pushing her back against the water-worn rock. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he could feel the strength in her thighs as she gripped him tight. She might not be enhanced like he was, but she was a fighter, muscles honed in life-or-death situations, and not all her trademark speed came from the chronal accelerator.

"Mmm, that would have been fun," she purred. "Tad awkward getting out of here after, though. 'Specially if you took the shirt with it."

The mental image of her moving through the jungle ahead of him, bare to the waist with those beautiful breasts swaying gently at every step, didn't strike him as at all awkward. Though probably not very comfortable for her, with the sun and stinging insects.

"You could have worn mine," he rumbled, ducking his head to nuzzle along the curve of her neck and shoulder. Actually, that might look even better.

Lena made a thoughtful noise. "Marked for all the world to see as yours, hmm? Should have known you'd be that type." The words were marginally scolding, but her tone made it clear she was _not_ objecting. 

Jack hadn't even gotten as far ahead as the idea of other people seeing her in it, but he didn't mind that, either. Not one little bit. And that was dangerous, because she _wasn't_ his. She was Emily's, and he was only borrowing her for the moment. He couldn't let himself forget that.

The reminder made him angry, and he got rougher with her than he'd meant to. He bit at her shoulder, sucking hard to leave a mark there. With her delicate skin, it would stay for days, letting Emily know exactly what her girlfriend had been up to. 

Apparently Lena had been telling the truth about Emily not minding, because she only giggled in response. "Ooh, Em'll love that," she chirped. She dug her nails into his back, again seeming to know just where the edge of 'too much' was, and raked them down his spine.

Jack shuddered in response and rocked against her, grinding his cock against her sex. The slick folds rubbed enticingly over his shaft, welcoming and inviting. She leaned back, trusting him to hold her steady, the shift in angle opening her to him further. She made love the same way she fought, always in motion, charging ahead and taking no prisoners.

Any willpower he might have had left was totally blown by the sight of her, pert breasts offered up to him like a sacrifice, a look of intense pleasure and anticipation gracing her delicate features. Jack lined himself up and thrust home, harder than he should have, but her answering cry was the furthest thing from a protest. Once in he forced himself to still, trying to give her time to adjust.

"Yes. Please." Her voice was broken, the plea heartfelt as she writhed against him. "Jack!"

"Damn it, stop moving." Like an answer to the roughness in her voice, his came out in a half-feral growl, as he clung to control by the skin of his teeth. "I'm trying not to hurt you."

She laughed as if the possibility was ridiculous, though she knew how enhanced he'd been. "Quit thinking I’m fragile. You should know better. I won't say 'do your worst', but you don't have to hold back."

With a little smirk that said she knew exactly what she was doing, she tightened her inner muscles around him, squeezing his cock hard enough to make his breath catch. "You asked for it," he told her, all the warning she was going to get.

Pulling out, keeping her hips tight in his grip, he plunged back into her hard and fast. Then he did it again, and again, steady strokes that whipped them both into a frenzy. She shifted closer, pressing her chest to his so he had to shorten his thrusts, each motion rubbing her tight nipples over his skin to stimulate them both. 

The water pounded down over them, cooling heated flesh and easing the friction of skin against skin, while at the same time activating every nerve in his body. It felt like being caressed everywhere all at once, and made the contrast of her sharp nails and soft fingers all the more powerful by comparison.

He dove in for another kiss, every bit as rough and demanding as his thrusts. She returned the aggression with interest, nipping and licking, nails in his back again, a little spitfire in his arms. God, she tasted incredible and felt even better. If he could have frozen this moment in time and lived in it forever, he'd have been content.

But even the best moments have to come to an end. Lena's cries took on a new edge of desperation, little screams against his mouth as he drove her to the peak and beyond. This time when she went tight around his cock it was involuntary, fluttering around him as orgasm swept over her and shattered her in his arms.

Trembling, she slumped against him, but she was far from out for the count. She kept stroking and scratching him, urging him on with her body and the soft, inviting noises she purred into his kiss. It took very little of that for Jack to reach the edge as well, the explosion hitting him hard as he surged one last time into her sweet, slick body and emptied himself there.

By the time he was done his breath was coming in harsh pants, and he didn’t trust himself to move without collapsing. She'd wrung him out, sucked him dry and then filled him with fierce satisfaction. She clung to him with no evidence of discomfort, though the rough rock behind her had to be leaving scrapes and bruises.

That last thought spurred him to move, shifting one arm up to her back so he could cradle her against his chest as he stepped away from the waterfall. Lena tucked her head against his shoulder, limp with content satiation. Wading through the waist-deep river, Jack headed for the shore where they'd left their clothing and gear.

Thankfully, he spotted his pants snagged against a bit of deadfall not far downriver, or _he'd_ have been the one making the half-naked journey out of the jungle. He probably could have thought that through better, but the only thing on his mind had been Lena.

Stepping up onto the bank, he let her slide down his body, though he regretted the loss of her warmth against him. "Down you go," he murmured. He'd meant it to be soft and encouraging, but it came out harsh. Mostly because of the roughness of his voice, but at least partly because reality was starting to set in. What they'd just done was...

Not wrong. He couldn't bring himself to feel that. As she found her feet and looked up at him with a hesitant, hopeful smile, he experienced zero guilt for his actions. If anyone had been taken advantage of here, it was _him_ , and he wasn't objecting.

No, his primary emotion at the moment was fear. Fear of what was to come, the long and lonely nights in the solitary existence he'd chosen for himself. He'd resigned himself to the consequences of the choices he'd made, but a large part of his ability to bear it came from his laser-focus attitude toward his mission. 

Now he'd been reminded that there was a great deal more to life than death and destruction, and already he was longing for it with an ache that might never subside.

"All right then, Jack?" she asked, and he could see an answering fear in her eyes. Fear that he would reject her now, treat her as something less than the fiercely strong woman he'd respected since the moment she joined his team.

It would have been the simplest way to ensure she didn't drag him any further down the road to desolation, but he couldn't do that to her. _Wouldn't_ do that to her, who had given him this gift she didn't realize was also a curse. 

"We might have to make camp here for the night," he replied. "You wore me out, girl."

"Oh, really?" There was a sly note in her laughter, and a smug look in her eyes. "And I'm sure there's no other reason you want to find a soft spot to lie down in." 

"Christ, Lena," he groaned at the thought. "You're going to have to give me a chance to recover."

A second round was the last thing he should allow himself. He knew it, knew that it might be the straw that broke him entirely. The way she lit up when he said her name, acknowledging the intimate bond that now lay between them... the light that shone so bright from within her drew him like the proverbial moth to his death.

But damn, what a way to go.

"I'm sure we can find something to pass the time." She all but bounced as she turned to retrieve her clothes. “Rinsing these and letting them dry, for one thing. Not fair that only you get to have clean bottoms, but I doubt you want to walk far in those while they’re wet.”

"And I’m sure there’s no other reason you want to set things up so we can’t go anywhere for hours,” he replied, mocking her tone when she’d called him on his supposed ulterior motives. 

Jack was absolutely certain she positioned herself very carefully to give him a good view of her sweet ass as she leaned over to scoop up her gear. If he'd been a decade younger the sight might have had him stirring again. It certainly made heat settle into his groin, even if his cock wasn't ready to rise yet.

He watched her, admiring the show she was putting on and making no effort to hide it, not now. He might as well embrace his fate and enjoy it while it lasted. Soon enough, she'd go home to her love, and he'd return to his solitary vigil over the world.

If this memory would have to last him for years to come, he would pack every moment into it that he could.


	2. Chapter 2

Settling into the rickety wooden chair next to the stack of crates that passed for his desk right now, Jack flipped a small data drive over and over in his hand. His eyes were on it, but his thoughts were a million miles away. 

Very few people knew he was still alive, and even fewer had any idea how to find him. Yet this innocuous looking drive had been waiting for him when he'd returned from his latest mission, in an envelope slipped under the door of the miserable hovel currently serving as his base of operations.

Chances were excellent it was a trap, set by one of his enemies. If he put it into a computer, it would likely upload some kind of virus or tracker, assuming it didn't blow up outright. He'd be crazy to do anything with it but crush it under his boot heel, or throw it into the nearest river.

But there was a possibility it might be from an ally. A call for help, maybe. He wasn't the only former Overwatch agent still out there, trying to clean up the world in the only ways left to them. Skulking in the shadows, darting in when needed and back out again before they could be arrested for doing the right thing. If Winston, Lena, or the others were in trouble and needed him, and he ignored the message, their deaths would be on his head.

Jack valued all those who'd served under him in Overwatch, but it was the thought of the former agent Tracer, captured or worse, that spurred him to plug the drive into his datapad. Lena Oxton was one of a kind, an irrepressible force of nature for the side of good, and the world couldn't afford to lose her.

 _He_ couldn't afford to lose her. For all that he'd refused any contact with her since their covert mission together in the jungle, knowing that she was out there helped him get through some dark moments.

The drive whirred softly as the 'pad scanned it. There was only one file, a recorded video message, scrambled and encrypted six ways to Sunday. Now certain it was somebody calling for help, Jack decrypted it and hit ‘play’ with a sinking heart. 

A holographic image of Lena popped up above the ‘pad. She was leaning in close to the camera, as if she was trying to see through it to him on the other side. There was no sign of fear or despair on her pretty features. Nothing in her body language to suggest she was in dire straits and desperate for backup. 

"Hiya!" She was as cheerful as ever, though he caught an edge of sadness beneath her words that surprised him. "Hope you get this. I'm not sure if you haven't received any of my other messages, or if you're not answering. If it's the latter, that's okay! I know you're busy, and trying to stay under cover."

Other messages? There hadn't been any he was aware of. Jack stayed on the move a lot, and rarely holed up long enough for any kind of mail to reach him, even the underground smuggled sort. The knowledge that she’d repeatedly attempted to contact him made him wary, though not for the obvious reason. Undoubtedly, she was taking precautions to make sure her attempts wouldn't be tracked by their enemies. 

No, his uncertainty stemmed from the same reason he hadn't reached out to _her_ in nearly a year. He wasn't sure he could see her again, and still make himself return to the miserable life that was all the world had left to him. 

She continued, unaware of his brooding reaction. "It's not long 'til Christmas. We’re going to have a little family celebration at Gibraltar. Hush-hush, top secret, highly classified and all that jazz. So it should be safe for you to join us."

Lena's smile softened, and that hint of sadness grew. "You're family too, and we miss you. I know what you're going to say..." She dropped her voice and turned it gruff, adopting his harsher accent in a decent imitation. "It's too dangerous. I can't risk exposing myself, and endangering all of you. You've got to think five moves ahead of your enemy, or you'll find yourself outflanked, and it's a damn bad idea to gather together like this."

Despite himself, Jack huffed a laugh. She had that effect on him, on everyone, cheering them up whether they liked it or not. 

Returning to her usual speech patterns, she continued, "Poppycock, is what I say. You're not doing yourself or the world any good, turning into a hermit. Next thing you know, you’ll be telling those damn kids to get off your lawn like a cranky old codger."

"Cranky old codger?" he repeated, incredulous. Only she would dare to call him something like that.

She'd say it to his face, too.

"If you keep this up, eventually you're going to forget what you're fighting _for_. It's important that you keep a connection to the brighter side of life, or you'll go too far into the darkness and become no better than the enemy." The sadness had gone, and the cheer with it - in that moment her expression was a heartfelt plea. "Whether it’s for the holidays or any other time, there will always be a place for you with us. Come home. Pretty please?"

One last smile, and the image froze at the end of the message. Jack sat staring at it for a very long time, his mind in turmoil.

She wasn't wrong. Losing himself to his own need for vengeance and retribution was all but a foregone conclusion, something he'd accepted when he'd taken the first step onto this path. That didn't mean he wanted to embrace it outright, or let it take him a moment sooner than it had to.

The raid he'd run against Los Muertos in Dorado sprang to his mind. That young girl in the alley - he'd nearly turned his back on her. Nearly left her there, terrified and traumatized, because helping her would mean letting the last of the bad guys get away. Even when they'd thrown the grenade, even knowing that he was the only thing standing between an innocent and certain, grisly death, Jack had almost made the wrong choice.

Next time, maybe he would. Or the next time after that.

Going to see Lena and the others would help remind him who he was, who he _wanted_ to be. And that was exactly why it was also a stupid idea. Reminding himself of what he could have, what he'd chosen to give up in his pursuit of justice for the world, would make it that much harder to live in isolation the rest of the time. He'd spent last Christmas with Ana, and strained as that reunion had been, it still left him longing for more.

Bad enough that he’d been forced to reconnect with Winston in order to ask for help with that mission last year. Worse that the result had been bringing Tracer along on the job, and getting close to her again, too. Closer than ever before, in fact.

Walking away from Lena had been so damn hard. Those few stolen hours together in the jungle had a deeper impact on him than he'd even realized at the time. 

Jack wasn't a starry-eyed teenager, to mistake lust for love. Her heart belonged to her Emily, and he wasn't pining after some kind of romantic relationship with Lena. That didn't stop him from aching for the way she'd made him feel whole, _real_. ‘Dinner with the family’ would be a step even beyond that.

With deliberate intent, Jack pulled the drive out of the 'pad and dropped it to the floor, then crushed it beneath his heavy boot. The last thing he could afford was to let himself believe in 'home' again.

* * *

Winter in Gibraltar was ridiculously warm by the standards Jack had grown up with, but pleasantly cool compared to the tropical and desert areas he'd been operating in for the last few years. Rain dripped off his mask and hair as he made his way through the open part of the Watchpoint complex, trickling under the collar of his jacket and shivering its way down his spine, but he welcomed the sensation. 

It was different from what he'd become used to, and that helped remind him that this wasn't a mission he needed to be watchful and wary for. Not that the reminder was effective. Jack couldn't remember the last time he'd been this wound up. He’d talked himself into and out of coming here so many times, he’d lost count.

Soldier: 76 didn't _do_ 'nervous', damn it. The word shouldn't even be in his vocabulary. Jack Morrison, by contrast, was apparently very much still capable of experiencing nerves.

Officially, all of the Watchpoints had been shut down and were abandoned. Gibraltar certainly looked the part, with metal walls going to rust and weeds springing up in unlikely places. It was a big complex, but Jack knew every inch of it, and he had a pretty good idea where Winston would have holed up.

Getting there was another matter. Traps and sensors had been laid everywhere, ensuring the occupants wouldn’t be caught with their guard down if uninvited visitors arrived. Jack had been invited, but sneaking around had become automatic. The effort of getting in reassured him that Lena's promise he'd be safe wasn't an empty one. 

Jack catalogued each security measure he passed with a sense of pride. He'd taught them these skills, and now his lessons were keeping them alive. There was no better gift he could give them. 

He thought he’d made it through, but there must have been one sensor he hadn’t spotted. With an enraged roar, a giant gorilla leapt down on him from the rafters.

Jack dodged, barely. If he'd been caught by the dive, he'd have been pinned and probably dead before he could identify himself. Winston slammed his hand out, trying to bash the intruder against the wall. Again, Jack escaped the blow by a hair's breadth. 

This time he put his back to a wall and lifted his hands in the universal gesture for surrender. Perhaps he’d taught them a little _too_ well for him to take a risk like this. Thank god, Winston hesitated, not so far gone to anger that he didn’t recognize the request for a truce. 

"Hey, big guy," Jack said, keeping his tone level and even, making sure his hands didn't stray anywhere near his pulse rifle. Slowly, telegraphing his actions, he reached up and removed his mask and visor. "Is that any way to greet an old friend?"

Winston blinked, then adjusted his glasses and peered at Jack. "Commander!" he exclaimed. Even high with surprise, his voice rumbled so low Jack felt it as much as heard it. 

If a blue gorilla could blush, Winston would have been doing it as he scrambled back and drew himself to attention, snapping a salute. "My apologies, sir. I didn't recognize you. Er... if you knocked on the front door, we didn't hear it?"

Tactful as ever, Winston was trying to give Jack the benefit of the doubt. Jack shook his head. "Enough with the saluting. Like I told L...Oxton, I'm nobody's commander these days." Did Winston catch his hesitation over Tracer's name? Jack brushed past it, ignoring the slip and hoping Winston would do the same. "I was testing your defenses. Good job."

The brusque praise made Winston's chest puff out with pleased pride. "Happy to hear it, sir, but next time I suggest knocking anyway. You nearly gave us all a heart attack. Lena's going to be blinking around from adrenaline for the next half hour."

Jack chuckled, surprising himself. "I remember her doing that when she got excited or nervous. Or bored. Thought she'd have better control, after all these years."

"That would require her to be attempting to gain that control," Winston replied, very dry, as he led the way down the hall to the doorway beyond. "She enjoys the rush too much, I think. And it gives her an excuse not to have to sit still."

Those were probably both very true statements.

The moment they pushed through the door, light and warmth rushed to envelope him and pull him in. The scent of savoury roast turkey, cinnamon and spices, and sharp, fresh spruce saturated the air. The spruce came from a large Christmas tree that dominated one corner, strung with decorations both purchased and handmade. The rest wafted from another doorway that must lead to the kitchen, promising a true holiday feast was coming.

In the space of a heartbeat Lena appeared on the far side of the room, blinking out of wherever she’d been hiding. Her guns were out and ready to strafe the intruder the moment anyone entered the room. Her face lit with pleasure when she saw him. “Jack!” 

The next instant she was throwing herself against him in an enthusiastic hug, arms wound around his neck and all her weight hanging off him. Only because he'd half expected it, Jack managed to brace himself and not end up flat on his ass with her in his lap.

She was soft and warm against him, smelling of vanilla and chocolate and the unique ozone scent of her chronal accelerator. The contraption dug into his chest, preventing him from feeling her breasts, which was just as well. It took real effort to keep from wrapping himself around her in turn, or worse, tipping her chin up for a kiss.

Not his. _Not_ his, damn it. 

Still, he did hug her back, awkward and stiff though the embrace was. "Lena." Aw, hell. He'd meant to call her Oxton. Too late, now. 

"You came!" Taking pity on him, she released him from the hug and stepped back, dancing from foot to foot like a child too excited to contain herself. "You really came! I'm so glad you made it."

It was strange to see her in a pretty red dress, soft fabric draped over her body and swirling around her legs, with the chronal accelerator blinking away on her chest and gun holsters covering her lower arms. He assumed she’d put on the latter when he’d tripped the alarm, but who knew, with her?

"Commander Morrison," Mei-Ling Zhou greeted him with a shy smile. The soft, broad notes of her accent always made her speech sound halfway to a song. “It’s so good to see you.” 

She’d been standing ready on the opposite side of the room from Lena, a pistol in her hand since her usual equipment was nowhere to be seen. She wore an embroidered cheongsam, her hair done up with little jingle bells on the sticks poking out. It abruptly occurred to Jack that he was a bit underdressed for a party.

Sighing, he rubbed the bridge of his nose, scar aching. Nothing he could do about the issue now. Not like he owned much in the way of fancy clothes these days, anyway. He shrugged off his jacket and the cowl the visor attached to, at least.

"Can I issue some kind of general memo, or do I need to keep scolding everyone individually about not calling me Commander?" he asked as he set his equipment on an empty table by the door.

"This is a family gathering," Lena said firmly. "No ranks, no last names. Everyone hear me?" She was looking straight at him, one eyebrow raised, all but daring him to call her anything but Lena now.

"Yes, mom," he drawled, fighting the urge to let his lips curve in a smile. The teasing felt awkward and unfamiliar to him, but she was the one person who could still get him to play, even a little.

She blinked, then giggled as she recognized the reference to her old habit of calling him dad after he scolded her for some lapse in judgement. "There, see? You _can_ relax, when you want to. Emily, come meet Jack!"

Any comfort he'd started to find in the homey environment fled, and it felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice-water over him. Of course Lena's long-time partner would be here, counted among her family. Jack had never had the opportunity to meet the woman, but he'd certainly heard Tracer pine over her often enough when the young agent was stationed far from home for a long stint. 

Under other circumstances he'd have been pleased to finally be introduced to her. As it was, Jack couldn't help the guilt that flooded him as he turned to face the woman whose lover had cheated on her with him. 

Then, too, there was the added awkwardness of Lena's off-hand comment that Emily 'enjoyed hearing about her adventures'. While that meant 'cheating' was perhaps not an accurate description, absolving him of guilt in the act, it also meant that this woman he'd never met was likely privy to quite a few intimate details about Jack.

The woman who emerged from a doorway was a pretty redhead, though she had the kind of features that were probably described more often as 'strong'. At least, until she smiled directly at Lena for a moment, and her obvious love for the other woman transformed her from merely pretty to beautiful. 

When she turned the smile on Jack it wasn't as bright as Lena's, but then nobody's ever was. "The famous Commander Morrison. It's so nice to finally meet you." He opened his mouth, and she laughed, a light, merry sound. "Yes, I heard the memo. No ranks, it’ll be Jack from now on. But it was 'Commander Morrison' I heard all the stories about, for years."

Maybe Lena hadn't been talking about their private moments after all. She'd seemed to take far too much pleasure in being given permission to call him 'Jack' to then turn around and use 'Commander Morrison' when telling the story of the waterfall. 

Jack allowed himself to relax a fraction - though that brought back the worry that maybe there had been cheating involved. "Pleasure to meet you too, Ms...?"

A wicked smile curved her lips, the first real indication that she was a good match for her partner. "Oh, no. Lena warned me not to tell you my last name or you'd probably never stop using it. You'll just have to be satisfied with Emily."

"Did she, now." That certainly sounded like something Lena would do. The woman in question grinned in response to his disgruntled glance, even wiggling her fingers at him in a wave, unrepentant. "Thought we were all family, here. Don't you trust me?"

"Nice try," Lena teased him. "Maybe after you've been a good boy for a while, we'll believe you." A timer dinged somewhere past the doorway, and she perked up. "Ooh, dinner's ready!"

She vanished, and Winston rumbled a protest. "Lena, I'm the host, I can get it." By the time he finished the sentence half the table was half covered in food, a faint blue light in the air trailing behind her as Lena zipped in and out. Winston sighed, but his lips curved in a smile. "Never mind."

"What? I'm hungry." She rematerialized beside a chair on the side of the table where a second place setting had appeared along with the food. "Let's dig in, shall we?"

Emily took the seat beside her, and Mei across, leaving Winston and Jack at the narrow ends of the rectangular table. Eyeing the setup, Jack shook his head as he settled into his chair. Looking over at Winston, he raised an eyebrow. "So, which of us is the mom in this scenario? Because it's clear who the kids are."

"Oh, Winston, definitely," Mei answered with a grin. "He's always been the mother-hen type."

"Truth," Lena agreed, touching the glowing accelerator strapped to her chest. "Jack scolds, and Winston fusses. No question who’s who."

"I do no such thing," Winston protested with great dignity, pushing his glasses up. 

That led to a 'remember when' session outlining all the times Winston had played mother-hen to this or that agent. For all that he usually resisted taking trips down memory lane, Jack found himself relaxing into the friendly banter, even contributing a story or two of his own.

For the first time since he'd supposedly died, Jack let his guard down entirely. It felt like ten years lifted off him, a subtle ache easing within that he hadn't even been consciously aware of until the emptiness was filled. He'd been right to fear coming here, the effect it would have on him.

He'd also been right to give in, because it felt like he'd been plugged in to recharge, weariness falling away like water sliding off his skin.

The thought of water on skin drew his eyes back to Lena, who was laughing so hard she had an arm wrapped around her stomach. In the soft light of candles and dimmed lamps she almost glowed with vitality and joy. Damn girl had been right; he'd needed this. Though how much he'd regret it afterwards was yet to be seen.

By the end of dessert Jack was as stuffed with contentment as he was with food. Considering he felt like he needed to let out a notch or two on his belt, that was saying something. When Lena started gathering dishes, he pushed to his feet and took the stack from her before she realized what he intended.

"I can get it," she protested. "You're a guest, we're not going to put you to work."

"Says the guest who insisted on serving," Winston murmured with an amused snort. 

"You can't have it both ways," Jack reminded her, echoing an argument they'd had back in the jungle about whether he was her commander. "Either I'm a guest, or family, and if I'm family that means I pitch in. Where I come from, if you don't cook, that means you clean."

"He's got you there, love," Emily laughed. "Guess it's you and me, Jack. I'll wash, you dry?"

Mei cocked her head. "Oh, that means I should..." Emily gave her a Look, and she coughed, then clearly changed her mind. "I should help Winston, er, finish hanging the decorations. Lena, you too."

In other words, Emily wanted a private word with him. Once again his relaxation evaporated, leaving Jack's shoulders tight with tension. There was no way to get out of it, so he tried not to act like he was facing a firing squad. "Sounds good to me."

The kitchen was a large room, meant to house a team of chefs pumping out enough meals to feed an entire base full of personnel. Some of the equipment had been rearranged into one corner, making it a kitchen within a kitchen, much easier for the use of a few people. They were far enough from the space apparently designated as the 'living room' that they couldn't hear quiet conversation, though the occasional burst of laughter rang clearly through the doorway. 

Emily didn't start in on him right away. He almost wished she would. The 'companionable' silence as she filled the sink and accepted the first dishes from him only left him anticipating the fall of the bomb. He held his tongue, waiting for her to make the first move so he'd know how to respond.

She kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, smiling wider each time. Finally she seemed to take pity. "Lena's right, you're all wound up in knots, aren't you? She's been so worried about you."

That wasn't quite how he'd expected the conversation to start. Frowning, he considered his answer. "Contrary to what she seems to believe, I'm a grown man and can take care of myself."

"As opposed to her, who requires constant supervision?" Emily laughed. "She worries because she cares. She means it when she says you're family. And family is important to Lena."

"All of us were family, once." It hurt to see the way they'd been ripped apart by politics and betrayal. That was one of the many reasons he'd stayed away from the others. And yet, in moments like they'd created tonight, it almost felt like all was right in the world again. 

"Lena seemed pretty sure you were ignoring her invitations at least partly because you were afraid you and she had done something wrong, and didn't want to have to face me."

The bomb, when it finally fell, was dropped so casually Jack thought he'd misheard at first. He ran her words back through his mind, and she was indeed confirming that Lena had told her about the waterfall. 

Emily didn't _sound_ angry, but a calm outward appearance could hide a myriad of emotions, often dangerous to the careless one who trod on them. He chose his words carefully. "There were a lot of reasons, not least being that I never got any of her messages until this one. But it was a factor."

Thankfully, she smiled at him. "Well, stop fretting. If anything, I'm grateful."

"Oh?" Again, not the reaction he'd expected.

"I'm a lesbian," she explained, matter-of-fact. "Lena's bi. She likes men, enjoys them in a way different from women, ways that I can’t satisfy. We did the monogamous thing for a few years to start, but she wasn't entirely happy. I know she loves me, and she'll always come back to me. So we made a deal, that she can do whatever she likes with men, as long as I'm the only woman."

"And you're okay with that." He wasn't quite sure he believed it. Love was never that simple, or easy. Jealousy was a part of human nature.

Her grin turned sly. "Well, it helps that she tends to come home revved up and ready to go. That girl never runs out of steam. And I discovered that while I have no interest in men, I do love hearing the way _she_ talks about them."

Well, that answered that question. She definitely knew all the details. Jack sternly forbade himself to blush, but his body declined to listen. 

She laughed, apparently delighted by his embarrassment. "Is it too much if I say I especially liked hearing her talk about you? She's had a crush on you forever, you know. And while last year might be the first time she'd _done_ anything with you to talk about, it definitely wasn't the first time you were mentioned."

That was news to him. Of course he'd noticed some hero worship, that was normal in young cadets, but if anything she'd been less reverent than most in his presence. "She hid it well."

"Crush might be too strong a word," Emily acknowledged. "She admires you, and you've always been favoured fantasy fodder." Her eyes gleamed with slow-burning heat, proving she meant it when she said hearing about Lena’s sex life turned her on. 

"I like it best when Lena really cares about the man,” she continued. “Gets her the most excited. If you had any idea how many meetings she spent daydreaming about crawling under the desk to suck you off - well, I loved it when you were the one to debrief her after missions. God, you made her so hot."

Jack had always been very strict with himself about treating subordinates in a fully professional manner. During their time in Overwatch he'd never have allowed himself to think that way about an agent under his command. But he might admit to a moment of weakness or two after everything had collapsed, when he'd pictured a similar scenario. Quite a few more, since the waterfall.

He couldn't deny that adding the image of her going home and jumping her girlfriend while also thinking about _him_ made him pretty hot under the collar, too. "Glad to be of service," he muttered, not sure what else to say.

Emily patted him on the shoulder, for all the world like an older sister, though she was young enough to be his daughter. "Teal deer version: you make her happy, and you're welcome to keep doing so for as long as it's good for both of you. And as long as you don't mind me reaping the side benefits."

"Not worried about me deciding I've fallen for her, and seducing her away from you?" If it were Jack on the other side of this equation, he'd never be able to accept that potential threat to his happiness.

"I don't think the two of you are likely to fall so passionately in love you decide to run off into the sunset," Emily said. "Even if you did, if you tried to keep a stranglehold on her affections, you'd lose her pretty quickly. You'd have to share her with women the same way I do with men, and she'd come right back to me. So how are you any threat to my relationship with her?"

"That's some pretty twisted logic." So why did it almost make sense? Jack shook his head. "I'm no good for her. Should never have let this happen at all, but she..." He paused, struggling for words to describe the way she kept yanking on his strings and calling him to her.

"She pulls you in, doesn't she?" Emily’s gaze drifted to the doorway. That pretty-into-beautiful smile graced her face again. "Like a gravitational field. She loves life so much, and wants to share that joy with everyone she cares about. How could anyone resist?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much it." He glanced that way as well, hearing the bright peal of Lena's laughter ring in the other room. "I'm still no good for her."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Hanging up the wash cloth, Emily grabbed a towel to dry her hands. Startled, Jack realized they'd waded through the whole stack of dishes. "Lena still looks up to you. You're her hero, and as long as she believes in heroes, _she'll_ never stop being one, either. I know you don't see yourself as one these days, but she still does and always will."

"So you’re giving me carte blanche?" Jack couldn't quite believe this was really happening.

"Well, if you want to pay me back..." Her smile turned impish, an expression he was all too familiar with from Lena. "You could always let me watch, instead of hearing about it after?"

Jack was pretty sure his face was literally about to burst into flames as she turned and headed back to the rest of the group. The worst part was, he couldn't tell if she was serious or not.


	3. Chapter 3

Sharp banging on a solid surface somewhere near his head jerked Jack out of the best sleep he'd had in ages. He was warm, comfortable, and in no pain. The last thing he wanted to do was deal with an emergency of any kind. He attempted to ignore it, rolling over and hauling the blanket up, but the banging came again.

"Fuck off or I'll punch your teeth so hard, they come out your ass," he growled.

There was a blessed pause, and for a moment he thought it had worked. Then came a familiar giggle. "You know, there were cadets in my class who firmly believed the Great Commander Morrison didn't even know words like that. Wake up already!"

Lena's usual cheer had a good dose of impatience mixed in, and Jack realized there was no way he was going to be permitted to return to sleep. Groaning, he rolled to a sitting position and rubbed his eyes, memory returning. He was still at Gibraltar. They'd all been up half the night, talking and laughing - yes, even him, rusty though the sound had been. 

The comfortable bed he was sleeping in was his own, in the quarters he'd had when he was commander here. Winston had dug the bedding out of storage. Presumably Lena had claimed her old room back, too - or maybe she'd gone for one of the other officer's quarters, since they were so much nicer.

More knocking hauled him out of his sleepy daze, and Jack growled again. At himself, this time. Usually he woke fast and completely, but then, usually he didn't feel safe enough to do otherwise. He was being lazy and complacent, a dangerous habit to fall into. "Where's the fire, anyway? It's not _that_ late in the morning."

"It's snowing! We're going to have a snowball fight. Come on, lazybones!"

"It's what now?" Stunned, Jack pushed to his feet and palmed open the door. Sure enough, the window across the corridor showed fat white flakes drifting down, defying both the bright sunlight and the balmy temperature he _knew_ it had to be. Gibraltar barely got cold enough to require a jacket, let alone cause snow.

Lena drew in a sharp breath, her eyes going wide and mouth parting slightly. She was staring at his chest, entranced. Only then did Jack remember he'd stripped down to his boxers to sleep in. A faint flush crossed her cheeks as heat crept into her eyes. Whatever she'd been about to say, it clearly fled her mind entirely at the sight of him.

He cleared his throat, and she jerked her eyes up to his with an abashed laugh. "Well, what do you expect? Presenting me with a sight like that. Honestly." She grinned. "Paying me back for the waterfall, are you?"

"Not intentionally." Though he certainly didn't mind her admiration. From anyone else, he'd have scoffed at the supposed interest. He was an old man, and while the experiments they'd done on him kept him strong and healthy, he was also scarred and ravaged by far too many battles. Not the sort of body that would draw interest from a pretty young girl, however impressive his muscles.

From Lena, though, the response was one hundred percent genuine. She was always transparent in her emotions, and she'd offered plenty of proof that she found him attractive.

Remembering that led to recalling the talk he'd had last night with her girlfriend, where Emily had made it clear he was welcome to make all the moves on Lena that he cared to. The temptation to catch her around the waist, pick her up, and toss her right down onto his bed was powerful.

But not quite as powerful as his baffled disbelief. "How is it _snowing_?"

"Oh!" Apparently reminded of what she'd come for in the first place, Lena turned and beamed out the window. "Mei built a machine. Winston's never had a white Christmas, and that just didn't seem fair. He deserves the full experience."

"Also, you wanted to have a snowball fight," he guessed.

"Also, I wanted to have a snowball fight." She giggled in acknowledgement. "C'mon, then! We're going boys against girls, since Winston's got an unfair advantage in how much snow he can throw."

"It's been a very long time since I was young enough to be interested in a snowball fight, Lena." He regarded her wryly. "Almost as long as it's been since anyone referred to me as a 'boy'."

"Think of it as training, then," she coaxed. "We're allowed to use powers and equipment, just not weapons. You're going to have a tough time hitting me."

What on earth was Emily going to do? As far as Jack was aware, the woman had no military training or special abilities. But what the hell did he know, maybe she was a tactical genius. Or maybe she just enjoyed getting snow in the face. 

He opened his mouth to refuse again, then paused to find a way to phrase it that didn't make him feel even older than he was. She must have read the dilemma in his eyes, because she laughed and asked, "You're trying not to say 'Run along and play, little girl', aren't you?"

"Pretty much." It was hard not to sound disgruntled. "Thanks for saying it anyway."

"Oh, tosh. Stop playing the old man card," she scoffed. "Or are you forgetting that I've seen you wade through an entire camp of enemies, and barely break a sweat? You're never too old for a bit of fun, but you _are_ desperately overdue."

"I'm not going to..."

Ignoring his protest, she continued her argument straight over top of his. "This is a formal challenge, Jack Morrison. Hit me five times with a snowball in an hour, and..."

She hesitated, trying to come up with a forfeit that would interest him. He must have been more tired than he realized, because the next words that came out of his mouth somehow skipped the stage of running through his brain. "And you'll do anything I want for the hour after that?"

Lena's mind immediately jumped to the same place his had gone. Her eyes dropped to his chest again, then darted past him to the rumpled bed. She licked her lips, leaving a damp shine on the plump flesh. Suddenly the only thing he could think about was how badly he wanted to follow the same path with his own tongue.

"That sounds reasonable," she agreed. The breathless quality of her voice made his groin go tight. "And if I win, I get the same in reverse. You'll have to come play in order to collect."

"I guess I will." His dignity might suffer, but it wouldn't hurt him any to go romp in the snow for a while. And they were no longer his subordinates, as he had to keep reminding himself and them. It didn't matter if he failed to keep a certain distance between them, or allowed the walls formed of respect and awe to fall.

"Meet us out front. You might want to put some clothes on first... but don't bother on my account." Grinning, she reached up and caught him around the neck, going on tiptoe as she tugged him down to meet her.

He could have resisted, but _why_? Her luscious mouth was every bit as soft and full as it looked, and she tasted of chocolate and cinnamon. She took the aggressive role, slipping her tongue into his mouth and duelling with his. The soft, eager noise she made all but undid him.

When he brought his hands up to catch her hips, fully intending to drag her inside the room with him, she vanished abruptly out of his arms. She reappeared halfway down the hall, shaking a scolding finger at him. "Ah ah ah! No cheating. You have to win the prize before you claim it." Winking, she blew him a kiss, then disappeared again in a trail of blue light and the echo of her giggle.

"Damn kid's going to be the death of me yet," Jack muttered, but when he turned back into his room, he caught a glimpse of his reluctant answering smile in the mirror.

* * *

The snow generator Mei built was small but powerful. Winston had jumped up to place it on the catwalk that ran above the staging area at the front of the headquarters building, and the result was a field of snow from the front door all the way to the curve in the road. A few meters away from the edge it was barely cool enough to need long sleeves, but as soon as she waded in, Lena was grateful for the wool lining in her jacket and the thermal properties of her pants. 

"Brr! That's not half chilly, is it?" The words might sound like a complaint, but Lena couldn’t be enjoying herself more. 

The snow in London could be pretty as it fell, but always turned grimy and grey when it hit the dirty ground. Here it stayed pristine and white, glittering in the sunlight in a way that made her very grateful for her tinted goggles. Jack was likewise wearing his visor, though she was pleased to see he'd left the lower half of the mask off. 

The glare didn't seem to bother Winston, and Mei had shown Emily how to apply kohl under her eyes to help cut down the reflected brightness. Lena approved of the way it looked on her lover, like warpaint turning her into a fierce huntress. Emily was a civilian, but Lena knew better than to underestimate her in this fight.

"Fifteen minute no-fire truce to fortify your end of the battlefield and start building ammo," Lena declared. "And yes, Jack, that counts toward your hour."

Winston laughed. "Did she bargain you into spending an hour out here?" Winston asked curiously. "Or just badger you until you gave in?"

"Bit of both." Jack looked and sounded like the grumpy old man he worked so hard to be, but his body language put the lie to his words. Lena had rarely seen him so relaxed, even as he tensed in anticipation of the battle. "You're cheating, Tracer."

The return to the formality of her callsign might have bothered Lena, except she knew it meant he was engaging fully in the spirit of the game. If he'd been trying to punish her, or really upset, he'd have reverted to 'Oxton'. 

"You should have negotiated the terms more carefully," she replied. "Be grateful I'm not counting the time it took you to join us."

“If you have to stay out here for an hour, shouldn’t you be happy she’s counting the time to build a fort?” Mei was baffled.

“I bet him he couldn’t hit me five times in an hour,” Lena explained, grinning at his disgruntled expression. “It means he’s only really got forty-five minutes.”

“What’s the forfeit?” Emily asked. Her smirk suggested she had a pretty good idea of the nature of what had been promised, if not the exact details.

Jack froze, as if the question had caught him off guard and he didn’t know how to answer. Lena simply told the truth. “I have to do anything he wants for an hour. I expect he’ll order me to go sit in a corner and give him some peace and quiet.”

Okay, only the first half of that was the truth. There wasn’t a doubt in Lena’s mind what he intended to do with his hour, and the last thing it would involve was her leaving him alone. He’d been looking at her the same way he’d done at the waterfall, heated and sexy and full of dangerous promise. 

Shaking off the distracting thoughts, she lifted her arm and accessed her wrist computer. She set the clock to beep in fifteen minutes, and again at the hour mark. "Time starts now!"

Winston bounded to the far end of the field, the force of his landing blowing snow away and creating a crater, a raised edge that gave them a head start on their fortifications. Jack followed with the breathtaking speed and grace granted to him by his enhancements, the thigh-deep snow in the middle of the field barely slowing him. 

Lena permitted herself a moment to admire the display of prowess, then dove in to help Mei and Emily start building their own defenses.

After some argument earlier about exactly what counted as a 'weapon' versus 'equipment', they'd gotten Winston to agree that Mei was permitted to use her gear as long as it wasn’t aimed at anyone directly. 

Mei immediately laid down a long, low ice wall to protect them, then started freezing the snow in front to create an icy, slippery surface. That would make it difficult for Jack to run up and bombard them over the wall, though Winston would be able to jump over it easily enough.

Meanwhile, Lena and Emily started making snowballs as fast as they could, stockpiling ammo for the battle. They had a huge advantage with two pairs of hands dedicated to the task, while Jack and Winston had to divide their attention between ammo and fortifications. 

The flip side was that Winston's barrier projector would allow the men to have mobile defenses. Mei's ice walls could do the same in a pinch, but there were no choke-points here for them to block off and prevent the men from going around the wall.

The fifteen minute beep came from her timer, and Lena snatched up the snowball she'd just set down. "Ready, set, go!"

Clever attempts at strategy lasted approximately thirty seconds on both sides, and then the battle devolved into epic chaos. Lena dashed all over the field, skillfully evading the slow projectiles fired by the men. Once, she blinked away from a ball thrown by Winston only to wind up on the receiving end of one Jack had aimed at Mei, leaving Lena sputtering with snow in her face and covering her goggles.

"That's one," she heard Jack declare, smug with victory. Laughing, she blinked sideways into a doorway, hiding in the corridor to give herself enough time to clear her vision.

The first time Winston set down his barrier, Jack was on the other side of the field, bombarding Mei from the high ground to get over her wall. Lena bided her time, building more snowballs. The second time the dome went up, Jack ran inside it, and both men laid down a chilly barrage from within the safety of the bubble.

Grinning, Lena darted out, scooped up an enormous armful of snow, then blinked twice to get inside the barrier before they realized she was coming. Pouncing on Jack from behind, she yanked the collar of his jacket out with one hand, and dumped the snow down his back with the other. 

“Bomb’s away!” she chirped at him, then blinked back out before Winston could turn to attack her.

Jack’s shout of shock and dismay was all the reward she could have asked for. The way he thrashed around, trying awkwardly to pull his jacket and shirt away from his body to shake the snow out, was even better.

Slowly and with great effort, the girls started to pull ahead. Lena's impossible speed and deadly accuracy combined perfectly with Mei's powerful defensive abilities. Emily hung back behind the main wall, building more ammo and calling out when the men attempted a flanking maneuver, or had left themselves in a vulnerable position. 

Then, just when it seemed inevitable the girls would triumph, Winston finally pulled the move Lena had expected from the beginning. He launched himself high into the air with a roar, and came down on the far side of the girls' defenses. Snow blew up into their faces from the impact, obscuring their vision and preventing them from attacking.

Abandoning snowballs entirely, Winston started swinging his massive fists through the deep powder, flinging snow this way and that without bothering to aim. He didn't _need_ to - the avalanche bombarded all three of them, forcing them to retreat out from behind their walls.

On the other side, Jack lay in wait with an enormous pile of snowballs beside him, and a red tactical screen popped up in front of his visor. His smirk was distinctly predatory as he hurled the first missile. "I've got you in my sights."

Quickly Lena blinked to the side - and was astonished when a snowball burst apart on her chest, a mere instant after she appeared. There was no way he could have aimed that quickly. She blinked again, and once more was struck immediately by a chilly missile. Desperate, she blinked straight back to try to get out of range, and this time ended up with a wad of loose, wet snow in the face, half of it going down her throat when she gasped in shock.

Coughing, she dropped her snowball and shoved her goggles up to clear her vision, though it meant she had to squint against the glare. She was out of blink charges, and it would take a precious few seconds for the chronal accelerator to accumulate enough energy to do it again. Jack already had the challenge-winning fifth snowball lined up, his expression filled with triumph, certain he had her dead to rights.

Lena wondered if he had any idea he was grinning with all the delight of a child at play, happier and more content than she'd ever seen him before. She blew him a kiss that was both mocking and entirely sincere.

He launched the last attack, just as the red screen projected in front of his visor winked out. Presumably that meant he'd lost whatever advantage had let him land those impossible shots. It wouldn't matter, he was going to strike her since she couldn't blink away... except she wasn't out of tricks just yet.

Lena hit the button that shut the accelerator down for one critical moment. Static rushed through her as she deliberately threw herself out of touch with time, and the world faded around her. She zipped back three seconds on her personal timeline, as far as she could go without risking she'd get trapped again in the ghostly state Winston had rescued her from. 

When the accelerator kicked back in, it yanked her into sync with time and left her standing where she'd been before the first blink, goggles back in place and not a flake of snow on her. She was even holding the snowball again. Crowing in delight, she wound up to throw it straight into Jack's face, as he stared at her in chagrined dismay.

"Freeze! Don't move!"

A blast of shockingly intense cold swept over Lena, stealing her breath and threatening to freeze her where she stood. Instinctively she tried to blink back out of range - but the accelerator beeped a warning and nothing happened. She was still out of charge, and if she rewound again so soon, she _would_ get lost in time. She tried to run instead, but it was already too late, her feet turned to blocks of ice.

Frantic, Jack tried to get to her, but the ferocity of the cold kept forcing him back. Mei's freeze field was powerful enough to kill someone at close range, and Snowball was right in front of Lena. She collapsed in slow motion, limbs refusing to support her but the ice trying to hold her in place. Something cracked, a sickening sound, but she was too frozen to feel any pain.

"Oh no! Tracer!" Mei sounded an inch from hysteria. "Snowball, stop! Turn it off!"

The little robot beeped a confused inquiry, but shut the freeze blast down. Jack immediately dashed across the affected area, sliding deliberately on the ice rather than skidding out of control, and fell to his knees next to her. She tried to reach for him, but couldn't move. He scooped her up and gathered her close to his chest, offering as much of his body warmth as he could, but it wouldn't be nearly enough.

"What the hell were you thinking, Zhou?" Jack barked at Mei. Lena could see her hovering over Jack's shoulder, a horrified look on her face as she wrung her hands in distress. "How does that fucking thing not count as a weapon?"

"I expected her to blink out of range, and then it would make the ground too slippery for you to follow her," Mei explained, panicked. "That's why I threw it closer to her than you!"

"She was out of charge," Winston rumbled, galloping up to them as well. He'd picked up Emily and cradled her in one arm, to get her safely across the ice. "Her feet... they _shattered_."

Emily jumped out of his gasp and fell to her knees on Lena's other side, hugging her tight without displacing Jack's grip, so they had Lena huddled between them. "Rewind, love," she urged, eyes full of tears. "You can do it, I know you can. Winston will find you again if you get lost." 

She reached out and hit the shut-down button on the accelerator before anyone could stop her.


	4. Chapter 4

The world glitched, fading to shades of blue and skipping from one frame to the next, except all the images were out of order. Lena was too dazed and surprised to even try to get control of when she was going. She bounced back and forth along her timeline, jumping between every moment she'd ever spent in this place in a dizzying whirl, never quite fully present in any of them.

 _*Flash*_ She ran toward the transport jet for her first official mission, the staging area full of familiar friends in uniform. 

_*Flash*_ She hurried up the steps with Emily by her side, incredibly late for their Christmas dinner with Winston. 

_*Flash*_ She leaned against the wall, sobbing into her hands as they played the news of Commander Morrison's death and the official dissolution of Overwatch on the vids. 

_*Flash*_ She battled Genji in the training room, desperate to prove to herself and everyone else that she was strong enough to help Overwatch save the world.

*Flash* She lay cradled in the arms of her lovers, friends crying around her as her frozen heart refused to beat again.

That one jolted Lena back into conscious awareness, and she struggled to impose control over the jumps. The devastated heartbreak in Emily's eyes was more than enough to force Lena to find the way back, but the wretched desolation in Jack's expression kicked her from desperate to determined. She couldn't leave them alone, either of them. Not by getting lost in time, or by dying from the freeze. She couldn't.

She _wouldn't_.

With a scream that nobody could hear but her, the sound echoing outside of existence, she wrenched herself back into the right time and hit the accelerator switch before she could be jerked away. 

Colour flooded the world again, and a wave of cold came with it - she'd missed slightly, finding the moment just _after_ Mei had activated the freeze field. It was still before her limbs had frozen solid enough to shatter, so Lena would take it.

She was on her feet, since that's where she'd been when the ice bomb hit, except now Jack and Emily were in the way. Lena collapsed again, and Jack leapt up in an impossibly quick reaction to catch her and ease her back down. He'd removed his visor at some point, and his eyes were dark with fear and strain.

"Lena?" Emily grabbed Lena's hand in both of hers, the grip so tight it was painful. "Lena, love, talk to me!"

"I'm... f-f-fine," Lena managed to get out, though she was shivering hard enough that her teeth clacked together. The effect rather ruined her attempt at reassurance. "Th-thank you."

If Emily's grip was too tight, that was nothing compared to the strength of Jack's arms as he clutched her to him. His face was hidden against her hair, but he was shivering almost as much as her, and Lena didn't think it was entirely because he’d been hit by the freeze field as well. 

"Dumb kid," he muttered into her ear, his voice gruff. "After everything you've survived, you go and get yourself killed in a damn _snowball fight_?"

"N-not dead y-y-yet," she pointed out. She tried for chipper, but reaction was setting in, delayed panic and terror. That had been too close. _Far_ too close. 

When Doomfist damaged her accelerator and she'd ghosted, she'd flipped back and forth before and _after_ the moment of the attack, scrambling to find her way back to the present. This time it had only been before, other than that one moment, and she was pretty sure she knew why.

If her present self was dead, would there be any way for Winston to sync her up again? Would she have been lost forever in the timeline, experiencing her past over and over again in tiny slices, knowing that there was truly no hope for a rescue? She started to shake for real, unable to control it. 

Drawing a deep breath, Jack sat upright, his expression flat. Shifting his grip on her, he freed one hand, reached down to scoop up some snow, then quite deliberately thumped it down on her shoulder. 

As she stared at him, astonishment breaking through panic and fear, he declared in a deadpan voice, "That's five. You lose, Tracer."

Winston grunted, the sound rumbling in a way that suggested it wanted to be a roar of outrage. That same dangerous resonance was in his voice when he spoke. "Lena nearly died, and you're still worried about your bet with her?"

Giggles bubbled up, spilling out through Lena's chattering teeth in a truly bizarre sound. "S-s-seriously?" she managed to get out, staring up at Jack, before the giggles took over again. She tried to stop, and only made it worse when she started to hiccup as well.

“Breathe,” Emily encouraged her, but she was smiling at Jack as well. Like Lena, she understood that Jack was trying to distract her from the delayed reaction to the close call.

"It's good tactics to take advantage of an enemy's strategic mistakes." It sounded like every lecture he'd ever given any of them in the field, a disgruntled teacher schooling students who weren't particularly good at learning. Only Lena was close enough to hear the way his breath kept catching, and the subtle rough edge as he forced the casual tone.

"Commander!" Mei objected, frowning at him as Winston growled. "Is this really the time?" 

Lena started laughing outright, unable to help herself, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. The last of the fear faded, replaced by exasperated affection for the aggravating man who apparently knew how to handle her far better than she'd realized. 

"No, it's okay," Emily soothed them, since Lena couldn't get anything out between the shivers and giggles. "Laughter is exactly what she needed. To ground herself in the here and now, and in the promise of the future."

Lena squeezed her lover’s hand, hoping Emily realized that _she_ was a part of what Lena needed, too. It didn't matter what had almost happened. She had something to look forward to - and people who cared enough to force her to keep searching until she found her way home, no matter how lost she became.

"All right, time to get you warmed up," Jack declared, pushing to his feet. He kept her in his arms, maneuvering so the motion wouldn't break Emily's death grip on Lena's hand. "Be pretty stupid if you lost something to frostbite after all that."

"You _both_ need to warm up," Emily said as she followed him up. "Don't think I missed the way you tried to run to her. You got caught in the freeze, too." 

Taking charge in that way she had, Emily started pointing at people and issuing orders in a tone that brooked no argument. "Mei, get that snow generator down and take it apart, we don’t want to leave it for someone to steal. Winston, you and I are going to get started on a good hot lunch. Jack, take Lena up to the showers, both of you get warm and then get some rest to help you recover. I'll come wake you when lunch is ready."

"Em?" Lena was startled. She'd expected her girlfriend wouldn't want to let her out of sight for at least a few hours, if not a few days. Emily always got a bit overprotective when Lena came back from a mission hurt, and this was the first time she'd seen the hurt actually happen.

Leaning in, Emily planted a firm kiss on Lena's lips, right there in Jack's arms. It was brief but heartfelt, and when she pulled back, she had a conspiratorial grin.

"One of us has to be first to reassure ourselves that you're okay," she murmured, low enough not to carry to the others. She winked up at Jack. "You're the hero of the day. Besides, you know how much I enjoy the aftermath. Go get her warmed up for me."

Jack turned a fascinating shade of red that Lena had never suspected he was capable of. They both knew Emily wasn't talking about Lena's physical temperature. He cleared his throat. "It hardly seems appropriate..."

"I'm sorry, was I not clear enough?" Emily stepped back and gave him a look that would do any drill sergeant proud. If she was aware of the irony of ordering around the man who'd once run this entire Watchpoint, she showed no sign of it beyond a twinkle in her eyes. "Move, people!"

"Yes, ma'am." Jack's lips twitched as he fought to maintain a scowl against the grin so clearly trying to sneak through. Everyone else jumped to with the speed of those used to obeying the chain of command, and Lena squeezed Emily's hand one last time before letting go so Jack could carry her inside.

As the door slid closed behind him, Jack shook his head. "That woman..." he sounded torn between disbelief and awe. He gave Lena a wry look. "I hope you appreciate how lucky you are."

"Every day," she assured him, fervent and sincere. She'd never meant it more than she did in that moment, which was saying something. "Always and forever."

Strength was finally returning to her limbs, even as they prickled uncomfortably with a pins and needles sensation in reaction to the warmth inside. Lifting her arms, she wrapped them around his neck, clinging tight and resting her head on his shoulder. "I appreciate you too, you know. Thank you."

"I don't know what either of you are talking about," he complained, taking the stairs to the personnel quarters area two at a time. "She's the one who took the risk and saved your life. All I did was fail to reach you in time."

He'd done so much more than that. Lena's heart was bursting with everything she wanted to tell him. About what his actions, both trying to reach her and shaking her out of her panic after, meant to her. About her realization of how important he was to her, and her to him.

About the fact that it was his heartbreak as well as Emily's that had forced her to find her way home.

But he wasn't ready to hear any of that. Might never be ready. He was skittish as an abused dog turned feral, ready to snap at anyone offering a friendly hand, certain they would strike a blow instead. Jack would chew his own leg off rather than be caught in a trap that existed nowhere but in his own mind: the idea that having someone important enough to live for would somehow weaken him.

That was okay. Lena knew how she felt, and now she knew how much she mattered to him. That was enough. She would make it be enough.

Lifting her head, she caught his mouth in a kiss, the sudden move causing him to stumble over nothing. Jack braced his shoulder against the corridor wall to support them both, and broke the kiss with a grunt. "You need to warm up, damn it."

"Yeah? I can think of a few ways for you to accomplish that," she purred, grateful her teeth were no longer chattering. That would have been significantly less seductive than she was trying for.

"You're shocky.” He dodged her next attempt at a kiss and started walking again, brows drawn together in a cranky scowl that he probably didn’t intend to look adorable. "You just had a near-death experience, you're not thinking straight."

Lena laughed. "Actually I am thinking 'straight', or I'd be with Emily right now." He looked unimpressed by her wordplay, and she tried again. "This isn't shock or trauma making me want you, wanker. Was I in shock at the waterfall?"

"I'm starting to wonder," he muttered. "Maybe you hit your head in the battle and I didn't see it."

"Wanker," she repeated, and he shifted the arm beneath her legs to be able to pinch her bottom. "Ow!"

"Language."

The scolding made her laugh again. "Oh, that's nothing. I live in the King's Row area, I know all the best words."

He shouldered through the door to his quarters, and crossed the room to the connected bathroom. She chose to take it as a good sign that he'd brought her here, to his private space, rather than into the communal showers that were much closer to the front of the base. 

Gently, he set her down on the counter. "First the flirting, now the swearing. You're determined to destroy all of my expectations and perceptions about you, aren't you?" Reaching into the shower, he wrenched the hot water tap all the way on, then knelt to remove her boots and socks. 

Lena decided she rather liked that position, both the image he presented and the feeling of being cherished as he took care of her. 

"Only the ones that make you think of me as a kid," she retorted. "Don't worry. Unlike some people, I only swear when I mean it. I'm not going to start threatening to 'punch your fucking teeth out your ass'." She said the last part in a gruff imitation of his words earlier that morning, and he sighed.

"Don’t make me pinch you again. Just because I said it doesn’t mean you should, too." Tugging off the second boot, he stood and looked her over, frowning. "Is it safe to take the accelerator off to strip you?"

"I..." Usually she did remove it to bathe, but... a shiver wracked her that had nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with her frantic need to ensure that her world kept moving in a linear, forward direction. "Um. M-maybe I'll just hop in with my jacket still on, for now."

He considered her solemnly. "How sentimental are you about that jacket?"

"Extremely, and also not very." She managed a shaky smile. "It's been blown up and torn to pieces I don't know how many times, but I keep buying the same one. I've got two more at home this moment, just in case. Emily gave the first one to me for my birthday. It's my good-luck charm."

"Fair enough. Every soldier has their superstitions. I wouldn't want to damage it if that _particular_ jacket was important." Gripping the hem at the side seam, he jerked his hands apart, and strained against the tough material. 

Muscles bulged in his arms. He'd already shed his own jacket, and the thin shirt he wore beneath was all but painted onto his skin, highlighting every dip and curve. Lena tried not to drool, captivated by the rare display of his strength outside a battle. The proof of how much damage he could dish out made the tender way he caressed her body all the more meaningful. 

And hot. Mustn't forget hot. The way he'd looked this morning, standing in the doorway in nothing but his boxers, sharp planes of his body highlighted by the sun refracting through the snow outside... yum. 

It didn't take much before the seam gave way, stitching ripping all the way up to beneath her arm. He gripped it there and tore again, until enough of the sleeve was open for her to pull her hand through and get free. He repeated it on the other side, then lifted the ruined jacket away from her back.

Compared to that, her t-shirt required no effort at all. That was a shame, because Lena _really_ liked watching those muscles flex. She made a disappointed noise and reached out to stroke his arm, enjoying the feel of solid flesh beneath her fingers.

Jack inhaled sharply and went still. When she looked up, she saw that his eyes were closed, and the pulse in his neck was beating fast and hard. She definitely wasn't the only one feeling the adrenaline rush caused by cheating death, and all the reactions that came with it. 

Deliberately she reached out and ran both hands up to his shoulders, then down his chest. She could feel the bumps and ridges of his scars through the fabric, indelible marks of the harsh life that had made him such an incredible, unique person. 

It was clear that he thought of himself as old and worn out, unattractive, but Lena could only assume it was delusion speaking. He was as gorgeous as any young man, with the added strength of character granted by age and experience. The scars didn’t bother her - she had a few of her own, and they were badges of survival. Proof of everything he’d overcome to be the man he was.

And, at least for the moment, he was _hers_. She intended to enjoy every second of it.

"I think the shower's warm enough," she murmured, leaning in to whisper the words directly into his ear. Eagerly she reached for his fly, but must still have been colder than she realized, because she couldn't make her stiff, uncooperative fingers work the zipper.

A frustrated noise escaped her, which caught in her throat and threatened to turn into a sob. She choked it down, but couldn’t completely hide her sudden, irrational distress.

Jack shifted to press her against his chest, arms coming around her back, her knees on either side of his hips so he could get closer. Lena buried her face in his shoulder, shaking again in reaction and mad at herself for it. 

Damn it, she needed him to see her as strong, an equal. Someone he could depend on, not someone who'd fall apart after a little danger.

"Shh," he half-scolded, half-soothed. "Stop trying to be brave. We all get the shakes sometimes."

Was he reading her mind? Or had she babbled some of that out loud? Probably the latter, she did tend to run on when she was upset or nervous. "You never did," she replied, disbelieving but not quite ready to call him a liar. 

"Sure I have." He chuckled, a harsh sound deep in his chest, as if mocking himself. "Ask Ana Amari, if you don't believe me. Hell... I was shaking today."

He had been, when she'd made her impossible recovery from death. It surprised her how much the reminder comforted her. Both because it confirmed that he cared, and because it meant he wouldn't think less of her for her reaction. 

When she had some measure of composure back, he stepped away. Before she could feel bereft, he reached for the collar of his shirt and yanked it off over his head, baring that beautiful chest of his. Her mouth went dry for a different reason entirely, and his smirk suggested he knew it.

"Guess I'll have to keep you distracted," he said, his strong, scarred hands making short work of the fly she'd struggled with. “So you’re not brooding about it.”

"Mmm." She was distracted just by watching him. There hadn't been nearly enough time to look her fill in the jungle. He'd joined her in the river with his pants still on, and then the frothing water had hidden the good bits. Afterwards, well, she'd been a bit too busy _doing_ to spend much time _looking_.

His cock sprang free as he shucked his pants and boxers, fully erect. He was the perfect size, thick enough to stretch and long enough to fill, without being intimidating. The hard shaft was dark against the pale skin of his stomach and thighs, trapped blood bringing a flush to the skin, the base nestled in thick curls a few shades darker than his hair. 

If not for that grey, you'd never know he wasn't a young man, judging only by his glorious cock and the heavy balls below. She licked her lips, anticipating the bitter taste of his come on her tongue. Lena loved giving head, adored the way she could make a man dance to her tune with a lick here and a nibble there, sucking them dry and leaving them wanting more all at the same time. 

It wasn't the quite same experience with women, one of the desires Emily simply couldn't fill for her. Which was _not_ to say Lena didn’t thoroughly enjoy the act with her girlfriend as well, but it was different.

Strong fingers wound through her hair and yanked her head back, forcing her gaze up to meet his. Lena's breath caught all over again at the fierce heat burning in his eyes. When he spoke, his voice held a different sort of gruffness than usual. "You keep looking at me like that, I'm going to end up fucking you right over the sink, and forget I'm supposed to warm you up first."

"Yes, please." That probably wasn't the right response, judging by the way he groaned and tightened his grip on her hair. Or maybe it was too much the right response, depending on how you looked at it. Lena giggled, dazed with need and, okay, maybe a tad trippy with the adrenaline of a near-death experience. 

For a moment she thought he'd do it, but he growled and released his grip on her hair. Instead he tugged her off the counter and set her on her feet. She managed to stay upright, though she had to lean on him for balance, her knees still wobbly and feet chilled enough that she couldn't quite feel them. Perhaps he was right about warming up first.

He tried to let her go to reach for her pants to remove them. She nearly fell, forcing him to catch her again. Growling, he picked her up by the hips and swung around to set her down under the flow of hot water, pants and all. 

_Too_ hot. She yelped as the stinging spray struck her still icy body, the contrast painful instead of pleasant. "Jack! It's set too high."

"No, it's not. You're still dangerously cold, you're just not feeling it anymore." He stepped in with her and closed the door, but it didn't make her feel crowded. The glass-enclosed area was big enough they could have had Emily in with them without problems. Officers got all the treats. 

He had to kneel again to peel her pants off while she clung to his shoulder for support, but she didn't mind at _all_. Feeling those muscles flex and shift beneath her fingers was even better than watching. 

Jack was definitely taking longer than he needed to, running his callused hands over the smooth skin of her thighs and calves, tracing abstract patterns that made her shiver with heat instead of cold. 

"So what am I going to be doing, for your hour of control?" she asked, her voice coming out husky with desire and trembling in anticipation. "Anything particular in mind?"

"I _ought_ to turn you over my knee and spank you," he retorted, looking up at her. 

She raised an eyebrow at him, thoroughly intrigued. "Ooh, kinky. I had no idea you went in for that sort of thing."

His answering growl was made less threatening by the blush that swept his cheeks. "I wasn't thinking about doing it in a way you'd enjoy. You nearly died, Lena. That's what I get for letting you talk me into one of your escapades..."

"Bollocks," she retorted, interrupting what was probably going to be another of his rubbish rants about how he was too old for that sort of thing - and by correlation, too old for her. "That was an accident and would have happened whether you were there or not. Nor is it representative of my 'escapades'. Snowball fights aren't usually life and death, you know."

"When you’re involved, somehow I feel like it's not rare for things to turn upside down and sideways," he muttered. She smacked him on the shoulder.

"Admit it. You were having fun until that moment."

He grunted, unwilling to say the words, but they both knew she was right.

Running her hand through his hair, she combed the short strands back. "You were a good commander, Jack. The kind that cares about and pays attention to the wellbeing of his troops. You know what happens to soldiers who go too long without leave. When was the last time you had _any_ R &R?"

He bowed his head, and she knew she was right. It wasn't only that he was refusing to let himself come home, or be near the people he cared about. He wasn't giving himself any breaks at all, going straight from one mission to the next with all the unrelenting drive of an Omnic, programmed for battle and nothing else.

"Let me be your safe space," she murmured, sliding her hand down to cup his jaw and lift his eyes back to hers. "Take your respite in me. You know I'm not going to give up until you do, so why not accept the inevitable?" He huffed a laugh, and she smiled. "That's better. Now, what are you going to do with me?"

"Right now..." Despite that small laugh, his eyes were still dark and solemn. For one brief moment he opened up, stopped hiding, and Lena felt like she could see to the depths of his weary soul. "The only order I want to give you, is to be yourself. Be that shining light for me, Lena. I need it, to find my way back."

Tears stung her eyes, but she fought them off, knowing he'd take it the wrong way. He'd been _her_ beacon home today, if only she dared to tell him so. If he needed that from her, too, then she would give him everything she had and then some.

"I'm yours," she promised him, and meant it heart and soul. She was his the same way she was Emily's, and damn the consequences. Lena did nothing by halves, and falling in love was no different.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he rested his head against her chest, just beneath the accelerator. He was breathing hard, fast and harsh, and she wondered if she wasn't the only one fighting off tears. Surely not. 

"Shh," it was her turn to soothe, going back to stroking his hair and shoulders. "I've got you."

He shuddered once, then lifted his head again. If there had been any tears, there was no sign of them now. His gaze was heated, and when he spoke the hoarse quality of his voice was entirely due to desire. "Y'know, when I saw you in the waterfall, there was a thought I had. This reminds me of it."

"Oh?" The way he was looking at her, like he wanted to eat her up, made her knees go weak all over again. She shifted so her weight was better supported against the wall, and he gripped her hips to help hold her in place.

"How much I wanted to lick all that water right off you." Jack suited actions to words, bending to run his mouth over the delicate skin of her stomach. His tongue flicked out to lap at the tiny pool of water in her navel, paying special attention to the spot just below it that made her squeak. "Ticklish?"

"N-no." She was in a few places, but that wasn't what had forced the noise out of her, or made her voice unsteady. He hadn't shaved that morning, and the scrape of stubble across the sensitive skin felt like a live wire trailing electricity in its wake. Tipping her head back, she closed her eyes and gave herself over to it, every nerve singing in eager anticipation.

He didn't disappoint her, continuing his path up and around the side of her ribs, nipping above each bone. His hands wandered downward in counterpoint, smoothing along the outside of her legs until he reached her ankles, then back up with his thumbs skimming her more sensitive inner thighs. 

By the time his mouth reached her breast, Lena was panting for air that no longer seemed to exist in the steamy chamber. The accelerator made it awkward for him to get his mouth on her. He managed, and though it was clear he'd rather have had free rein, he didn't so much as make a noise of complaint about her reluctance to remove it.

She forgot about the issue entirely, as he closed his lips around her taut nipple and sucked hard. She cried out, her caress in his hair turning to a desperate grip. He brought his tongue into play, swirling around the tight peak and then flicking at it, and she melted in his arms.

His thumbs skated across her mound, teasing mercilessly but not pressing in no matter how she arched her hips to try to encourage him. She made a frustrated noise and tugged on his hair, which caused him to chuckle. But he gave in and cupped her, two fingers sliding through slick folds to find her entrance. 

Then he teased her _again_ , circling and skimming and never giving anywhere near enough pressure to satisfy. This time her cry of frustration was closer to a scream.

"Impatient," he scolded her. "I haven't had sex since the last time with you, and I'm managing to take it slow. You've got Emily to keep you satisfied, so what's your excuse?"

"My excuse is that I've been wet enough to dampen my panties since the moment you opened your door this morning," she told him, breathless as his mouth trailed downward again. "Your suggestion for a forfeit didn't help any, either. And let me tell you, that’s not half uncomfortable when chilled."

This time his laugh came out as a snort. "Guess I'd better make sure you get warmed up there, too." Grasping her ankle in one hand, he urged her to lift her foot, then draped her leg over his shoulder, giving him enough space to move in between her thighs.

"Jack!" she shrieked as he swiped his tongue across her clit in a long, slow lick, one finger dipping inside where she ached for so much more. 

Realizing she was probably being too loud, she stuffed her fist against her mouth and bit down on a knuckle. Emily certainly wouldn't mind if she overheard, but it might draw some awkward questions from Mei and Winston that Jack clearly didn't want to answer yet.

It didn't do nearly enough to muffle her cry when he pulled his mouth away, though he kept teasing with his finger in shallow thrusts. "The soundproofing in here is top notch," he assured her, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Counter-espionage measures."

"Must be... nice..." she gasped, voice breaking as he returned his attention where they both wanted it. "The barracks walls were... paper thin... oh god, Jack! _Harder_!"

He obligingly pressed his tongue harder against her clit, but stilled the motion of it. He pushed his finger in, deep and hard, curving up to rub the sensitive spot inside, but _still_ didn't move his tongue. 

Pressure wasn't enough, nor was the stroking inside. She’d never managed to come without friction on her clit. "Please, more. I need more," she begged, writhing to try to force him to move. 

He followed the motion of her hips with his uncanny reflexes, giving her only the tiniest of shifts against her clit. His finger inside stroked her higher and higher, hotter and hotter, with no hope of relief. She flailed one hand up to catch the showerhead for support, lest her legs give out on her entirely.

That only seemed to encourage him, and he pressed a second finger in along with the first. Lena screamed, her back arching with the intensity of her need to come, whole body trembling. "Jack, you bloody bastard. _Please_!"

In the moment she thought she would surely go insane from the singing tension of unfulfilled pleasure, he thrust his fingers as deep as he could and _finally_ licked at her, fast and hard. It flung her over the edge into orgasm, the sensation so intense she wasn't sure she could bear it.

Jack kept going, lapping at her clit with strong, sure flicks of his tongue, just enough of a pause between each to _almost_ let her start to come down from the peak. Only when she started to hyperventilate did he relent at last, pulling away and gently setting her foot back down.

Of course, he immediately had to catch her, as her grip on the showerhead gave out and her whole body went limp. Instead of cradling her in his arms this time, he set one arm beneath her ass and the other at her back, encouraging her to wrap her legs around his waist. Nudging the shower off with his elbow, he carried her out, paused for the dryer to blow warm air over them until they were only damp, then continued out into his bedroom.

The whole time Lena drowsed in his arms, body humming with pleasant lassitude, unable to so much as lift her head from his shoulder. It was a good thing he was so strong, because she wasn't doing a thing to help hold herself up.

He laid her out on her side and crawled in beside her, stroking his hand along the curve of her body from shoulder to hip. He looked distinctly smug, and she supposed he had the right. "Guess I haven't lost my touch entirely."

"Mmff." That didn't come out right, and Lena cleared her throat to try again. Her voice was hoarse - just how loud had she been screaming? "Not bad. Better than any other man I've ever been with."

"None of the women?" He arched an eyebrow at her, but didn't seem put out. Plenty of men would have taken her comment as an attack on their prowess or masculinity. She adored him all the more for being utterly unthreatened by her teasing.

"Well... girls do have a bit of an advantage." He was better than plenty of the girls she'd been with, too, but she wasn't going down that rabbit hole. There was no way she would ever attempt to compare him and Emily, let alone decide who was best at anything. 

"Don't worry, you've got a different advantage - something I want that they can't give me." Strap-ons and vibrators were fun - Emily made them _very_ fun - but not quite the same as a hot, hard dick attached to a real body. Lena grinned. "And you're plenty good at that, too."

"Good to know." He ran his hand down her leg and caught her by the knee, pulling her leg up over his waist. The accelerator meant he couldn’t roll her onto her back, but this opened her up to him just as effectively. "Since we're sure as hell not done yet."

Lena welcomed him into the cradle of her body, wrapping her arms around him and drawing him in for a heated kiss. She could taste herself on his mouth, something that always drove her wild. He rocked his hips, sliding the solid length of his cock back and forth over her clit. She arched into each thrust, trying to change the angle enough to get him inside, but his patience appeared to be endless today.

Appearances could be deceptive, though - when he _did_ finally line himself up and drive home, it was with a hard, fast thrust that pushed her further up the mattress from the force of it. If he'd started with this he might have hurt her, but he'd done more than enough prep work to have her ready for anything he wanted to throw at her. She took him easily, crying out against his lips, rocking her hips to meet him when he thrust again.

The pace Jack set was barely on the safe side of brutal, and Lena reveled in it shamelessly. Not least because _he_ was so lost in the pleasure of it, too far gone to try to pretend to be unaffected. He moaned with each thrust, the tendons in his neck and shoulders standing out with strain, his hands on her hips hard enough to leave bruises she'd treasure for days. They broke the kiss to gasp for air, and his eyes were locked on hers like he would die if he so much as glanced away.

Or maybe like he was afraid _she_ would disappear again.

His cock was hot and thick and hard as iron inside her, and her clit ground against his body every time he slammed himself home. It wasn't long before she was writhing again, nails driven into his shoulders to urge him on, riding the razor edge of toomuch-toofast-toogood. 

He hit the peak first, but the last hard thrust and the feel of him throbbing inside her pushed her over the edge as well. She convulsed around him, clawing at his back hard enough to leave shallow welts, shouting his name.

It went on and on, split seconds drawn out forever, until they were both shuddering in helpless reaction. When he collapsed, he kept her close, staying connected for as long as they could. She huddled against him, gasping for breath and reeling with the impact of it.

Almost, _almost_ , she blurted out the forbidden words. Lena bit her tongue and refused to let them emerge. If she told him she loved him now, he would brush it off as nothing but hormones and the emotional response to a powerful orgasm.

And he would _still_ probably bolt, damn it. No, she needed to pick her moment carefully, make sure he was ready to hear it.

"Thank you," she whispered instead, closing her eyes and listening to his heart thump beneath her ear. The sound was rapid and strong, a match for her own. "Jack, thank you. For everything."

"Thank _you_ ," he replied, gruff as ever, but his hand was exquisitely gentle as he stroked her lower back and the curve of her ass. "You are incredible. Damn, Lena. I could stay like this forever."

So could she, if only the world would let them.

"Get some rest," he told her, still with those long, lazy strokes like he was petting a cat. She luxuriated in the attention, snuggling deeper into the bedding and the feel of him, utterly content.

She dozed, and then she must have done more than doze, because a polite rap on the door jerked her out of befuddled sleep. "Lena?" Emily called, her tone sly and knowing. "Jack? Wake up, lunch is ready."

"Nmph." Yawning, Lena shifted enough to unbury her mouth from the pillow and tried again. "Coming, just a sec." Her back was cold where Jack had been, so she rolled over and patted the rest of the bed, searching for him.

Only cool sheets met her questing hand. "Jack?" Opening her eyes, she scanned the room with her heart beating too hard. There was no sign of him, and the bathroom door was ajar, showing his clothing and gear were gone. Frantic, she looked at the corner where he'd had his pulse rifle propped, but it was missing too. 

"Jack! God damn you!" She bolted upright, fists clenched in the sheets, holding them tight to her chest. As if hiding her body would somehow protect her heart. He wouldn't have. He _couldn't_ have.

How _dared_ he?

"Lena?" The hallway door slid open, and Emily took a hesitant step inside. Her gaze swept the room too, and Lena saw her come to the right conclusion as anger clouded her face. 

Emily crossed the distance to the bed in three quick steps and swept Lena up into a hug, heedless of the accelerator digging into both their chests. "Oh, love. I'm so sorry."

Lena seethed with rage, but there was pained resignation mixed in. She'd pushed him too far, somehow, even though she hadn't said the words. "I scared him off. Damn him. Bloody coward."

"It's not your fault," Emily scolded her. She pulled back enough to take in Lena's expression, and hers softened. "You really fell hard, didn't you? I'll tear his heart out and feed it to him, for breaking yours. Might do his bollocks as well for good measure."

Lena gave a watery laugh, only then realizing that she was crying, silent tears streaming down her face. She wiped them away with an angry gesture. She would _not_ let Jack Morrison break her heart.

Especially because she knew damn well he was tearing his own to pieces. Doubtless he was telling himself it was better for both of them to end things decisively, make it clear there'd be no coming back. That it was too dangerous for him to drag her into his hellish world, and too painful for him to keep returning to the promise of home.

He was running scared, terrified of his own emotions, and she loved him enough to ache for his pain. Which absolutely would not stop her from causing him some pain of her own, when she got her hands on him again.

"Don't worry," she assured her girlfriend. "I'm not letting him get off that easily. He has _no_ idea what he's started." 

Tracer never gave up and never gave in, everyone in the world knew that. It was as much her trademark as her frequent quip of 'Cheers, love! The cavalry's here!'. This was far from the last time she'd see Jack, and she was not going to be pulling any punches when they met again.

Then Lena broke down and cried anyway, weeping into Emily's shoulder. Determination to rub Jack's nose in his own idiocy wasn't nearly enough to make it stop hurting in the meantime.


	5. Chapter 5

Six months almost to the day that he'd left Gibraltar and sworn he would never return, Jack Morrison's steps echoed between the deserted buildings once again. He made no effort to be stealthy as he ran, though he knew he should be. Winston's emergency message had been purposefully vague, in case any enemies intercepted it. Those same enemies could be here right now, lying in wait for him to charge in like a goddamn green recruit.

But the big guy’s audio message kept echoing in Jack's head, over and over, making it hard to focus on anything else. 

_"Commander, I'm sorry. You know I wouldn't contact you for anything less than a dire situation. Please, we need you here. **Lena** needs you here. I can't say more... but hurry."_

Lena. Just the thought of her was enough to make pain squeeze at Jack's chest, shortening his breath and causing a stutter in his heartbeat. The first time it had happened, when he’d walked out on her, he'd half thought he was finally having a long-overdue heart attack. Since then, the grief and guilt had become old friends. Uncomfortable and unwanted, but almost reassuringly familiar.

He knew damn well he'd been a heartless bastard, leaving her asleep in his bed and taking off without so much as a 'goodbye' note left behind. No matter how many times he told himself it had been the only way to keep her from chasing after him, it still hurt. The ache was deep in his soul, in the part of him that had once been a good man; a man who knew how to treat the precious treasure of a woman who loved him.

That love had been written large in her eyes after she'd nearly died, echoed in her voice when she screamed his name in pleasure, resounded in the way her body welcomed him home inside her. She'd never said the words, but he'd heard them. God, yes, he'd heard them. And her love would destroy them both, in different ways, if he’d allowed it to happen.

It was destroying him anyway, tearing him apart from the inside out, but at least this way her pain was sharp but finite. Lena was young, and she had Emily. She’d get over him.

Just as he'd sworn he would never return to Gibraltar again, he'd sworn he would never come near her. But Jack would never, _could_ never, ignore a cry for help on her behalf.

Nothing stirred anywhere on base, except the seagulls who cried in the air above him, protesting the disturbance of his presence. The headquarters building, where Winston had set up his lab and home, appeared undamaged. The doors were locked when he tried them, but opened immediately when Jack pressed his his palm to the scanning plate.

Baffled and worried, he hurried inside. "Winston?" he called, raising his voice to be heard in the labyrinthine corridors. Again, stupid if there were enemies waiting, but all he could think about was whether or not Lena was safe. And that carelessness was exactly one of the many reasons why he'd been right to leave her, damn it.

"You sodding _wanker_."

Heartbeat spiking with adrenaline, Jack spun to face the direction the voice had come from. He jerked the pulse rifle up to his shoulder by pure reflex, though he already knew it wasn't an enemy who waited for him.

Then again, the murderous outrage burning in Lena's eyes suggested that 'enemy' might be the right term after all. But not one he would be able to shoot.

She stood in the doorway, hands planted on her hips, every inch of her projecting the righteous fury that only a woman scorned could truly feel. Her tone was scathing. "I suppose I ought to be grateful you at least won't ignore it if I'm in trouble." 

There was nothing childlike about her in that moment. Jack had seen her upset before, even angry, but _nothing_ like this.

And she had every right. Every damn right. They both knew it.

Resigning himself to the inevitable, he lowered the pulse rifle and slung it onto his back. "Winston's message was a trap, wasn't it."

"This is between you and me, Jack Morrison. Don't you dare take out your guilt on Winston," she snapped, proving that she understood his motivations better than he'd wanted her to. If she believed he felt bad about what he'd done to her, she might think she could convince him to repent and come back.

He couldn't afford for her to try, because he was afraid she'd succeed. His willpower was all but non-existent where she was concerned, these days. He needed to provoke her to the point where she’d give up on him once and for all.

"Take that bloody mask off," she demanded, before he could say anything.

He crossed his arms and attempted a bored stance, as if nothing she could say would bother him. "No."

Bright light filled his vision as she blinked close, then back again, his visor and mask thrown to the ground behind her. Jack growled at himself. He should have expected that, damn it. Not that there was much he could have done to stop her, not without hurting her.

He'd already done more than enough of that, emotionally. He would never lay a hand on her physically.

"You sent a fake SOS in order to throw a tantrum?" He kept his voice as cold as possible. "Have you ever heard the story of the boy who cried wolf? I dropped everything to come because I thought you were in trouble. Next time, I won't."

"Which is why it took me this long, because I made sure you'd just finished a major operation before I sent it, so I wouldn’t interrupt anything," she countered, unmoved by his logic. "Winston recorded that for me the day after Christmas. Nobody's very happy about the way you left."

She'd been keeping a close enough eye on Jack’s actions to know that he was planning to lie low for a while? Hell, there were powerful world governments and terrorist organizations who'd been struggling to even catch a glimpse of him for years. And if she'd spent that long planning this, it wasn't going to be a simple - though justified - shouting fit at him.

This was going to be revenge served cold, and that was much worse. 

"I don't have time for this. You're not a child anymore, Oxton. Stop acting like one." Turning on his heel, he strode for the door.

As he'd expected, she didn't even let him get two steps before she blinked around him, blocking the way out. "I never took you for a coward, Jack. Stop acting like one." She deliberately echoed his tone on the last words.

That barb dug deep, as she'd intended it to. He stopped, frustrated, knowing there was no chance he'd get by her until she decided to let him go. Again, not without hurting her, which he refused to do.

It was her turn to cross her arms, though ‘bored’ was not the look she was going for. "You slunk out like a dog with your tail between your legs, because you were too afraid to look me in the eyes and tell me you weren't coming back. And now you're still trying to run away, instead of having a bloody adult conversation about it. Yet _I'm_ the childish one?"

"I left because you made the mistake of confusing sex for love, like the naive little girl you are," he snapped back. 

Impossibly, her glare intensified a notch. "You're damn right I love you, Jack. And it's got nothing to do with what a brilliant shag you are." She paused to reconsider. "All right, it's got a little bit to do with that. But it's not the reason."

Love. Present tense, not past. Was she insane, or a masochist? No, it had to be a slip of the tongue.

Surely.

"I never should have screwed you," he snarled, hating himself more with every word. "I thought you could handle it, but I was wrong. Grow up, already."

"Stop trying to make me angry enough to let you leave," she shouted back. "It won't work. I'm already bloody furious with you, and I'm still here."

So much for his clever plan. She’d seen through him from the start, and he’d been throwing those hurtful things at her for nothing.

Lena blinked into his space, right up in his face, inches away. Her fists were up, held like she was planning to punch him out, but she made no move to attack. 

He refused to give ground, glaring down at her. "If you're going to hit me, go ahead. Give it your best shot."

"You can’t. Drive. Me. Away." She bit the words off like they tasted bad. "Quit behaving like the child you're accusing me of being and _talk to me_."

God, she was magnificent. Eyes blazing with anger, cheeks flushed with frustration, every inch the spitfire pixie he'd recruited into Overwatch. He'd dreamed about her painfully often over the last months, but it was usually an image of her when she was soft and lush, replete with pleasure and contentment.

He'd forgotten how much he appreciated her as a warrior, too. Even with her ire directed at him rather than an enemy, she was entrancing.

Like an idiot he actually reached for her, hands moving in direct opposition to the orders coming from his brain. He had no idea what he was even planning to do. Yank her in for a kiss? She'd bite his tongue off, with the mood she was in.

Sure enough she slapped his hands away, all but hissing at him in offence. "Don't you _dare_. Do you really think I'd let you seduce me again to get out of the argument?"

"Who seduced who?" he asked, incredulous. There was absolutely no question which of them had started this fucking mess.

Her nostrils flared in anger, but she huffed in acknowledgement. "All right, fine. That was me. But really?" She narrowed her eyes, searching his features like she was looking for the answer to the universe. 

Something appeared to dawn on her, brows drawing together in bemusement rather than anger. "You didn't mean to try it, did you? You can't help yourself. Yet you still think you're going to convince me that you feel nothing for me?"

"Sexual attraction is not love." Which was a true statement, even though it was a lie in this moment. "Stop mixing them up."

She shook her head, stubborn and willful as ever. This was the girl who'd stood in his office as a brand new cadet, lecturing him about his decision keep Overwatch out of a political mess they'd been forbidden to interfere with. She'd looked him straight in the eyes and acknowledged that she was out of line, but refused to apologize or back down. 

That was when he'd known she was going to be one of his best agents - and also one of the most aggravating pains in his ass. He'd been right on both counts.

It might even be the moment he'd started to fall for her, though he'd never have admitted it then, even to himself. And he wasn't going to admit it now. "Damn it, Oxton..."

"You're not going to convince me." She gave him a grim smile. "I have an advantage you don't realize, Jack. Did you know, when I fall out of time, sometimes I go forward as well as backward? Not very far, thank goodness. I have no desire to know the future."

Well, that was a completely sideways move in the conversation. He frowned at her, not understanding. "The hell does that have to do with anything?"

"When I nearly froze to death, there wasn't much future for me to jump to. Just a few seconds ahead of when Emily turned off the chronal accelerator - the moment my heart stopped. What would have been the last moment in my timeline, if I hadn't found my way back to change the outcome." 

She held his gaze, refusing to let him look away. He felt mesmerized, and was terrified she could see straight to the heart of him after all. Though his dreams about her were heated and steamy, his nightmares about that day were chillingly cold, and just as frequent.

"Your point being?” Problem was, he was afraid he already knew the answer, and it meant she was right. He would never convince her.

"I saw the look on your face when I died." Her anger was still there, unmistakable in its fury, but something softer crept into her expression to join it. Sympathy. Heartache. "You were devastated. Hurting almost as bad as Emily. It wasn't just her I found my way home for. It was you, too."

"You're delusional." She was so goddamn right, and they were so, so fucked. Because if he couldn't get her to turn her back on him, he didn't think he had the strength to walk away a second time. "You saw what you wanted to see."

"No, I saw what you _didn't_ want me to see." Again that grim smile, so painfully different from the cheerful grin that had pulled him into her orbit in the first place. "I love you, Jack Morrison. And you love me."

The words shook him to the core, no matter how hard he tried not to let them. "God damn it, Lena..." Her eyes lit with triumph, and he swore. He hadn't meant to use her name. That was a big point to her, and they both knew it. "I _hurt_ you. What I did to you should be unforgivable. You have more self-respect than to let someone use you like that."

"You're right. I do. Why do you think I'm so bloody furious with you?" She tossed her head, flipping a stray bit of hair out of her eyes. For once, she wasn't wearing her goggles, though the rest of her battle gear was in place. Perhaps she'd wanted nothing stopping her from looking in his eyes, and forcing him to see the truth in hers.

" _Don't_ think I've forgiven you." She poked her finger into his chest, hard enough that he felt the force even through his heavy jacket. "You've got a lot of grovelling to do before that happens. And if you hadn't tried _so_ hard to drive me away again, I might have walked out and left you without a second thought."

His efforts to get her to hate him were why she was still willing to speak with him? "How does that make any sense?"

"You were trying so hard because you care so much, and it terrifies you." Her defiant expression dared him to contradict her. "It means I was right about why you left in the first place. That you were hurting me in an attempt not to hurt me, like the right idiot you are. If you really hadn't cared, you just... wouldn't have cared."

Damn it. When had she gotten so good at understanding him? "What the fuck makes you think I’m suddenly going to start begging for forgiveness at all?"

Lena took a deep breath, and let it out again slowly. When she was done she was still angry, still hurt... but there was a sly gleam in her eyes, too. "Well. I do still owe you that hour of obedience. Never let it be said I refused to pay a forfeit. But you'll have to stop acting like a git if you want the prize."

Growling, he turned away from her, rubbing at his temple with the heel of his hand. She was giving him such a headache - and he didn't want her to see the way her teasing words had kicked up his pulse and made his mouth go dry. Not to mention certain other, more obvious physical signs of his reaction. She was crazy. Absolutely insane.

He wanted her so damn badly, and now she was declaring that all his efforts to push her out of his reach had amounted to nothing. Encouraged her, in fact.

"Exactly how do you picture this ending, Lena?" He turned back to her, struggling to keep the scowl on his face from swinging into either regret or desire. "Us moving in together? Going out for dinner and a movie, like a regular couple? That's not our lives. It can _never_ be my life, not with the price on my head."

To his astonishment, she laughed, and the amusement was genuine. "Move in together! Oh, that'd be a right treat. The bed's barely big enough for Emily and I. I'm not entirely sure you'd fit in it all by yourself." Her lips twitched, the smile winning over anger for the moment. "Is that really the only thing you think I'd want? A white picket fence and the whole nine yards?"

Once more, her reaction baffled him. It wasn't that he believed all girls dreamed of nothing but marriage and children and making a home for their family. Ana would have kicked his balls in if she'd ever suspected he thought that way, and he'd have earned the mistreatment. But Lena was a romantic at heart. The way she smiled at Emily was proof enough of that, let alone all the other evidence.

Watching him think it through, she shook her head. "If we were still active agents of Overwatch - yes, I know we'd never have been together at all under those circumstances, but _if_ \- we'd have had maybe a month's worth of days to spend together out of a whole year. And if three of those days were strung together, we'd've counted ourselves lucky."

That was true, but he didn't see the relevance. "So?"

"Those few days between missions would have been more than enough to make it worth it. What makes you think we can't have something like that, now?" She tipped her head at him, impatient and exasperated, as if he was a particularly slow student she was attempting to coach through an exercise with an obvious answer. 

Fraternization among Overwatch agents had not been officially permitted, because it caused strife and discord among the ranks. But he'd looked the other way from a few couples that he'd trusted to remain stable, or to be professional enough to do their jobs properly even if it did end. He was careful never to assign them to work together, so they wouldn't be distracted in a tough moment, which meant their time together had been rare.

And all the more precious to them, for that rarity. He'd allowed the relationships precisely because he'd seen how much harder they worked the rest of the time, to come back to each other all the faster.

"What you're doing out there is important," she said softly. "Deadly important. I'd never try to hold you back or keep you from it. And I have a life in London, a full-time partner I love, who I would never abandon. All I've ever asked for from you is what you also _need_ to allow yourself."

"To come home, once in a while." It felt like the words were torn out of his throat. He wanted that so badly, but feared it as well.

"Exactly!" She threw her hands up in the air. "If you'd just give yourself a break to recharge every month or two, you'd be doing a much better job out there in the long run. You know you would. It wouldn't be so painful and terrifying because when you left, you'd know it wasn't the last time you ever got to feel happy. _That's_ the part that scares you, this rubbish idea that as soon as you walk away you have to go back into the cold, alone, forever!"

"And when I come, you'd be waiting for me?" The idea was so appealing it hurt. It was too easy, there had to be a catch. Nothing was ever that pure and good in his life. "Wouldn't your girlfriend have a few things to say about you dropping everything every time I called?"

"Emily's more than happy to have a few days to herself, now and again." Lena shrugged. "Whether you're around or not, sometimes we need to do our own thing for a bit, or we start snapping at each other. Plus, she understands. She'd never begrudge me a chance to be with you, when she gets to have me all the rest of the time. If you call, I'll be there. Always."

All he needed to do was reach for her. She was still angry, and she hadn't lied about him needing to do a lot of grovelling to truly get back into her good graces, but if he reached for her now, she'd let him. 

Once again his hands acted without any orders from his brain, rising to cradle her face. He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, feeling callus rasp over her soft skin. His hands were so big, it made her features look even more fragile than usual, and the contrast was enticing.

Especially when she half closed her eyes and nuzzled against his palm, enjoying his touch and happy to let him see that pleasure. It immediately had his mind zipping to what his rough hands would feel like in other, even more delicate areas of her body.

He was _so close_ to giving in, but he knew, he _knew_ , he would only hurt her in the end. "I can't... I can't share you. I'm not built like that."

Her eyes went wide and her face paled, as stunned as if he'd slapped her. "You'd really make me choose you over Emily, if I want you to stay? I love you, Jack, but you'll lose that battle. Not least because you’re making me choose at all."

"What?" Reviewing his words, he realized how they'd sounded. "No. She's different. As twisted as her logic is, she's got a point. The way you are, the way you love... I'm not competition for her, and she wouldn't be for me. I can accept that. But I would bury a fucking helix rocket in any other man who touched you while you were mine. Understand?"

Emily had been forced to learn to share her lover with men, because Lena had been unhappy without them in her life. It would be months between Jack’s chances to be with her, sometimes many months. If she couldn't be satisfied with that, they'd still end up destroying each other.

Her shock faded, replaced once more by exasperation. "Exactly what do you think of me? That I go out to the pub every Friday and shag a stranger for the thrill of it? I told you, I only flirt with people I like and trust. I have high standards so that's a damn short list, thank you very much. Maybe once a year I find someone worth the effort of bothering with. If I had you, I wouldn't bloody need to look at anyone else."

She hesitated, eyes dropping from his for the first time since the fight began. Her next words were almost too quiet to hear. "Since the waterfall, it's only been you, anyway. Who else could ever hope to measure up?"

The admission might as well have been a flashbang to the face. All the air rushed out of him, and it was his turn to be stunned. It wasn't that he'd imagined her having casual sex with strangers, but he'd misunderstood the frequency of her 'adventures'. To know that she hadn't been with anyone, even though she'd believed he was out of her reach, even though he'd hurt her so badly...

Lena truly loved him. Jack finally accepted that, _really_ let himself believe it, all the way down to his soul. It wasn't infatuation, it wasn't lust mistaken for more, it wasn't a young girl in love with the idea of love itself. 

It might or might not be a midlife crisis on his part, the stereotypical old man with a beautiful woman still in her twenties, but _she_ loved him with all her heart.

With all her heart not occupied by Emily, rather. And where Lena was concerned, half her heart was deeper and richer than any other person's whole heart could be.

Reaching up, she traced the line of his jaw with one hand, soft fingers rasping against stubble. "Go on, say it," she urged him, tone soft and intimate. "Just once. We'll both feel better for it."

"I love you." It hurt to admit, but god, it hurt so good. Tears welled up in her eyes even as a joyous smile finally lit her face, so he made himself say it again. "I love you, Lena Oxton. I will be the worst thing that ever happened to you. But I do love you."

She made a rude noise. "Would you stop with the doom and gloom, already. You're no worse for me than anyone else might be. There's plenty of wankers out there, and I've already dated more than a few of them over the years." She scowled, and again jabbed at his chest with a finger. " _Still_ not forgiven, for the record. And if you ever, _ever_ pull another stunt like that, I will hunt you down, slap a sodding pulse bomb on your family jewels, and laugh when it explodes. Got it?"

"Bloodthirsty little wench, aren't you?" The threat reassured him more than she could imagine. He didn't _want_ her to forgive him if he ever hurt her like that again. He still wasn't sure she should be forgiving him the first time. "Now what?"

Slowly, her scowl morphed into a sly smirk. "Winston's off with Mei for a few days, trekking down to Antarctica to see if there's anything else useful that she had to leave behind."

"So we've got the Watchpoint to ourselves?" He shook his head. "You did plan this well, didn't you."

"With their cooperation. After the wreck you made of me at Christmas, they were happy to help." When he winced at the confirmation that they were aware of the exact nature of his relationship with Lena, she narrowed her eyes. "You didn't think I'd let you get away with hiding it, did you? If you're _ashamed_ of being with me, you can walk out that door right this minute."

"Never." He caught her by the waist and pulled her into a tight embrace at last, feeling her come to rest against him like a missing part of him finally falling back into place. It wasn't shame that made him hesitate to tell the others, but rather concern for whether they'd look down on _her_ for it.

It was a sad fact that men were congratulated on risque sexual escapades, while women were likely to be viewed negatively for it. If she trusted Winston and Mei enough to want them to know, that was good enough for him. 

Which did not mean he wouldn't be embarrassed as all hell if they smirked at him. Thankfully, neither of them were likely to, though Emily was another story.

Lena clung to him in turn, arms around his waist and hands burrowing beneath his jacket to fist tight in his shirt, as she hid her face against his chest. Startled, he realized she was trembling. She wasn't nearly as blase about how close she'd come to losing him as she was trying to pretend. A great deal of that anger had been a cover for heartache, which he'd known, but it was different to feel the evidence.

"I love you," he told her again, the words coming easier with each repetition. "I'll make it up to you. Somehow."

"Bloody right you will." She leaned back enough to look up at him, though she didn't unwind her arms. "In fact, I think you might as well start right now. Why don't you go wait for me in your office?"

He'd already been leaning down, anticipating that she'd pull him into a kiss. The suggestion - issued in a tone just this side of a command - caught him off guard and left him staring at her. "My _office_?" Not his quarters?

"That's what I said." Her usual cheeky grin was making a comeback at last. She blinked out of his reach, and waved him off. "Go on, then. I need a minute."

Then she was gone, leaving him standing alone in the front entranceway, utterly baffled.

And so, _so_ goddamn glad that he hadn't fucked this up beyond all hope of recovery. Even though that was exactly what he’d been trying to do.


	6. Chapter 6

Being back in his office was a distinctly surreal experience for Jack. Even stranger than waking up in his old bed had been, the day after Christmas. The day he'd broken Lena's heart so badly. 

Shaking his head to push that painful thought away, Jack surveyed the room. Someone had scrubbed it until every surface shone. No need for three guesses who was responsible.

He might need a lot more than three to figure out _why_ , though. 

Slowly he pulled off his armour and equipment, setting them on a chair tucked into a back corner, where they were out of the way. Then he unzipped his jacket and hung it over the back of the same chair, leaving him in a tight, short-sleeved shirt.

Jack hadn't missed the way Lena all but drooled over his arms and chest. He was happy to encourage her to keep looking at him that way. 

The screens on the wall flickered to life, making him jump. He scanned the images, and frowned when he saw it was a lot of reports about the King's Row uprising, with a few articles about Blackwatch's Japanese disaster thrown in for good measure. "Athena?" he called, wondering why the AI that ran the base had decided to torment him with this particular moment from his past.

It wasn't the computer who answered him. "Cadet Oxton, reporting as ordered," Lena chirped from the doorway. 

Baffled, he turned, and did a double take when he saw her. She was wearing her old cadet uniform, right down to the jaunty cap pinned to her spiky hair. Her salute was textbook perfect, as always - she'd been so earnest and innocent back then. So eager to convince them that she belonged, and win their acceptance. 

Understanding dawned, and he glanced around at the screens again. "This is what was showing the first time you ever reported to my office." It was a day that had been burned into his mind for many reasons, good and bad. One of those reasons was standing right in front of him, looking like a memory come to life. 

She broke character, offering a saucy wink that she'd never have dared when he was her commanding officer. "I figured, if you're going to be ordering me about for an hour, we might as well take advantage of the location and do it right."

All the breath left his chest, and Jack closed his eyes. The sight of her was far too distracting to let him think. He would never have taken advantage of a subordinate. Any subordinate, but especially not a fresh-faced cadet so desperate to please him and be permitted to go on active duty. Not even if that cadet also had the brass balls to tell him off to his face for doing the expedient thing instead of the right thing.

None of which meant the thought had never crossed his mind, in the long, lonely nights after his 'death'. He'd had nothing but imagination and his own hand to keep him company, and every woman he'd known was connected to Overwatch in one way or another. With them far away, unlikely to come in contact with him again, it had been safe enough to fantasize. 

And yes, the fierce little pixie who'd given him so many headaches had featured in some of those fantasies. Quite a few, if he was being honest. If that made him a lecherous old man, so be it. She certainly didn't seem to mind.

Lena had already acknowledged in the argument earlier than she was aware nothing would ever have happened between them, back then. If anything, he was the one wrapped around her little finger these days, and he certainly wasn't pressuring her. If she wanted to play out an old daydream, he was happy to oblige her.

If this was play, though, then the setting wasn't quite right. Everything on the screen was a reminder of what had been, overall, a bad time in his life. It might set the mood for her, but not for him, however much he enjoyed the memory of her particular part in that day.

Clearing his throat, Jack raised his voice. "Athena, wipe the screens." Lena's expression fell, and she bit her lip as her shoulders slumped, thinking he was rejecting her idea. Jack considered his next command carefully. What could he call up that would be proper to the setting, without giving away sensitive information Lena had no need to see?

"Show me the supply requisitions for the last five years the base was in operation," he ordered. "Give me a comparative graph or three while you're at it." God knew those damn supply reports had been boring enough he'd have more than welcomed an interruption from them. Especially one like this.

Lena eyes widened with hope, as Athena spread the graphs and reports over the wall screens and the surface of his desk. The AI sounded smug when she said, "Yes, Commander."

Striding to the other side of his desk, Jack settled into the chair where he'd spent so many hours, trying to keep his people and the world safe. As he sat, he realized he was missing the familiar flare of his jacket against his legs. "I'm not in uniform."

"I don't mind." She certainly didn't, if the hunger in her expression was anything to go by. Her mouth was slightly parted, lips damp as if she'd licked them a moment before. The pretty pink flush on her cheeks had nothing to do with embarrassment, and everything to do with the way she was undressing him with her eyes.

Christ, how was it possible that she could undo him with nothing more than a look? Jack’s cock swelled, rising to the occasion. He had to fight to keep his voice steady. "Emily told me that you used to daydream about... alternative methods of giving your reports."

"Did she?" A wicked grin curved Lena's lips, at odds with her attempt to play the innocent cadet from back then. "I managed to behave myself in briefings, because I had to pay attention or people could be killed. But debriefings... I kept worrying you'd catch me off in the clouds and realize where my mind was."

He'd certainly noticed her attention wandering, but she _was_ so focused in before-mission meetings, he'd written off the after-action daze as a side effect of exhaustion. It was a reasonable assumption, since she put 120% into every job, and overuse of her powers had often left her wiped out afterwards.

Or maybe not. He'd seen no evidence of accelerator-induced weariness at any time in the field. What was that term she liked to use? Cheeky bugger. 

"So?" This time he made no effort to keep the husky rasp of lust out of his voice. "Report, cadet."

"Hnh." The breathy noise she made went straight to his dick, and that daze in her eyes definitely matched the one he'd seen so often before. She marched toward him, movements as crisp as if she were on the drill field, but still managed to make it look like a prowl. "You know, one time, you called for me but I arrived to find Captain Amari in with you."

"Oh?" He tipped his head back as she paused in front of him, standing at ease, every inch the proper cadet - except for the way her eyes were fastened on the tent in his lap. 

"I waited outside, watching through the window." Her voice was as husky as his, with a breathless quality that threatened to take his breath away, as well. "She was on the opposite side of the desk from you, leaning over - I guess you were making a battle plan on a map or something, because you were both doing a lot of pointing. I kept wondering..." 

She closed her eyes, and a dreamy sort of smile drifted over her lips. Her voice softened, turning intimate in a way that had him leaning forward to better hear. "I kept wondering, if I were under the desk, with your cock in my mouth, would she be able to tell? Would she see me, if she leaned too far? What if I was too enthusiastic, sucking and licking, and you made a noise? Could I actually get you off without her being any the wiser?"

The naughty picture she painted with her sweet voice caught Jack thoroughly in its hold. He could almost see it, almost imagine the look on Ana's face when she figured out what was going on. There was no way he'd be able to keep quiet for long with Lena’s lips wrapped around him, her tongue playing over sensitive skin. Hell, he was barely stifling a groan now.

"I can see why Emily likes it so much when you tell her stories." He could listen to her all day, though he'd probably break down and have his hand around his cock within minutes. Or his fingers buried in her, that would be even better.

She opened her eyes again, grinning with delight at his reaction. "Oh, that's nothing, sir. Shall I tell you about all the things I want to do to that lovely cock of yours? There was a tiny part of me that was mad not because you ran off, but because it meant I never got to return the favour and show you what _I_ can do with my mouth."

"What are you waiting for, then?" He leaned back in his seat and spread his legs to give her space to kneel between them. Then he reconsidered. "Athena, can you project a hologram of Captain Amari at that meeting?"

"I'm not certain which meeting in particular Cadet Oxton is speaking of, Commander." Athena sounded genuinely apologetic. "I could extrapolate from any number of similar incidents, however."

Lena was wriggling past his legs into the space beneath the desk, eyes alight with excitement. He pushed the chair back in and settled himself, her lithe, warm body sliding between his knees. Jack drew a deep breath, and tried to find some measure of the self-control Lena was so good at stealing from him. "Do it, Athena."

An image flickered to life in front of his desk, Ana Amari as she'd been... god, nearly ten years ago, now. She leaned across his desk, braced on one hand, using the other to point at the map that had appeared on the surface. "What if we go in over the eastern mountain pass? We could keep the jets high enough to avoid detection, and make a HALO jump to reach the target..."

The colours were washed out and the image flickered occasionally, but her voice was strong and familiar. If he kept his eyes on the map instead of her, it felt like he'd taken a step back in time.

At least, until slender hands slid up his thighs, stroking and caressing through the fabric. It took real effort to keep his breathing steady and expression flat as Lena cupped his cock, squeezing gently. Even more so when she undid the button of his fly and drew the zipper down, slowly so it wouldn't make noise.

And to tease him, he was pretty sure. She worked her clever fingers through the gap, curving around the shaft of his cock and drawing him gently free. 

"Jack?" Ana was giving him an odd look. "Are you listening to me?"

Right, he was supposed to be doing something. Lena had already made him forget. This was not going to be easy. "I hear you. There's some pretty vicious crosswinds low to the ground in that area, with the mountains creating a wind tunnel. Could be..." 

Lena brushed her mouth over the head of his cock, then blew on the wet spot. Jack cleared his throat to cover the way his breath caught. "Could be dangerous to do a low-altitude opening."

"Mm. But if we do a high-altitude..."

He lost track of what Ana was saying again, as Lena sealed her lips around the head of his shaft. Her tongue darted out, slipping beneath the foreskin to find the more sensitive flesh beneath. Jack ground his teeth to hold back a groan. She lapped at his weeping slit, little delicate flicks to catch each drop as it leaked free. 

She was teasing him, the way he'd teased her, refusing to get serious. His hand clenched against the urge to reach down, catch the back of her head, and press her closer. He flattened it immediately, before Ana noticed. 

"What about a ground assault," he suggested. He was interrupting, but that was better than Ana pausing again and him not realizing she was waiting for his input. 

"Come in overland?" Ana scowled at the map, puzzled. A ground assault would be an insanely suicidal maneuver, but she trusted his judgement, so she'd spend a while trying to figure out what he'd seen that she'd missed. 

Which was good, because Lena was going all in, sucking him deeper and deeper into her hot, wet mouth. One hand played at the base of his shaft, fingers dipping inside his gaping fly to tease at his balls. She skimmed her fingertips over his sac, then slipped beneath it and rolled it around in her hand, rubbing and stroking. 

Jack's heart was beating in triple time, and he was losing control of his breath. Heat built in his groin, a subtle tremor creeping into his limbs as she sucked hard. 

"Are you feeling all right, Jack?" Ana's words were concerned, but the look she was giving him was closer to suspicious. “You’re terribly flushed.”

"I..." Jack lost his voice entirely as Lena swallowed him whole, then _hummed_ around his cock, throat vibrating against the head. "Son of a bitch!"

Shock made Ana take a step back. She put her hands on her hips, regarding him with narrowed eyes. "What are you..."

"End simulation," he growled, voice harsh with the shout he'd been fighting since Lena had sucked him in. Ana flickered and vanished as he shoved his chair back, caught Lena by the scruff of the neck, and hauled her up off him. She whined a protest and struggled to try to keep her mouth on him, swirling her tongue around him to the last, finally releasing him with a wet 'pop'.

"Aw, I wanted to taste you," she complained, but her grin was smug with satisfaction. Her lips were red and puffy from friction, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire, and she'd lost her cap and goggles somewhere along the way. She looked debauched, in short. 

"We're doing what _I_ want," he reminded her. Yanking her in by the grip he still had on her collar, he kissed her hard, plunging his tongue in to find the bitter hints of his own precome mixed with the sweet taste of her.

She kissed back enthusiastically, hands roaming over his chest, before sneaking down to try to wrap around his cock again. Jack stood, dislodging her, then spun her around so he was pressed against her back. His cock rubbed across the top of her firm ass, and she wriggled against him in encouragement. "Bend over the desk," he ordered.

"Mmm, you say the sweetest things," she purred, reaching for the buckle of the main strap for her accelerator.

He caught her hand in his, squeezing and preventing her from releasing the catch. "No."

She frowned, twisting her neck to peer up at him over her shoulder. "Bit uncomfortable, if you want me on my front. Not great for you either, leaning over me."

"Will it hurt you?" She shook her head, and he tugged her hand away from the strap. "Leave it. Now bend over."

"Yes sir, Commander." With a sketchy salute that bore almost no resemblance to her textbook example earlier, she draped herself over the surface of the desk. The glow of the inset screen reflected oddly off her face, and he turned it off with a swipe of his palm. That left a gleaming black surface that reflected her quite well, allowing him to see her expression. 

She wiggled, trying to find a comfortable position. He watched, taking the opportunity to calm himself, pulling back from the edge she'd pushed him so close to. He wasn't nearly ready for the fun to end, yet. 

Of course, there was the small issue of her pants. He slipped his hand into her waistband, twisted his fist to wrap the fabric around and get a solid grip, then tore it off her as easily as if the heavy fabric had turned to wet paper.

She gasped, a sound of shock and need. There were no panties beneath, leaving her luscious ass bare to the cool air of the office, and providing him an unobstructed view of the neatly trimmed dark curls peeking between her thighs.

Kicking her feet further apart, he spread her legs to get a better view. Those curls were slick with moisture, proving she'd thoroughly enjoyed going down on him. Pink folds of flesh winked invitingly from within, and his cock throbbed with the desire to plunge home in her and finish what she'd started with her sweet mouth.

Instead he slipped his hand between her thighs, fingers seeking and finding that damp flesh, gliding over the slick skin in a long teasing stroke.

She moaned and squirmed, trying to get more contact. "Jack, please don't tease me again. Please. I need you so bad."

Of course he immediately pulled his hand back, ignoring her protesting cry. If she hadn't asked, he'd planned to get his fingers inside her as quickly as possible, but now he had to remind her who was in charge at the moment. 

Remembering her intrigued interest when he'd threatened to spank her last time, he pulled his hand back and smacked her on the rump. He cupped his hand so there was more sound than force behind the strike, but she still jumped and cried out. She moaned and rocked her hips back, thrusting her ass higher in the air for a better target.

He smacked her again, on the other cheek, watching the rosy flush that rushed to the surface in the wake of the sting. "Tell me," he commanded her, giving her another tap. "Like you'd tell Emily. What story do you want her to hear, when you go home?"

"Haa... I... fff..." For a moment he thought coherency might be beyond her, but she gathered her wits and answered him properly. "I want to tell her... how gorgeous your cock is. So thick and hard, the head big enough that I'm never quite sure I can take you, but then you slide home and it's the best thing ever. The way you stretch me, that sweet burn as you grind in, the way you fill me up and fill me up until I feel like I'll burst in the best way."

It was his turn to lose speech for a second, and all he could get out was a grunt. She giggled, knowing exactly what effect she was having on him, so he slapped her ass again to make her shriek.

That only got her onto another track. "I'll show her the marks you leave. She adores love bites, but she'll like your handprint on my behind just as much. Or if you work me too hard for that, until all the skin is red and aching, then I can tell her how I was caught between the burn of pain and the sweetness of pleasure every time you pound into me."

Growling, Jack grabbed his cock and lined himself up, rubbing the head back and forth over the slick flesh, teasing the hard nub of her clit without pressing in yet. She writhed desperately, so he set his other hand at the small of her back and pinned her in place, making her whine a protest.

"Do it," she pleaded, broken and begging. Her hands clenched over the edge of the desk, hard enough that her knuckles were white with strain. "Please, Jack, take me hard. Make me yours."

"You _are_ mine," he snarled, and finally pushed his way into her body. She was tight, so fucking tight that he was forced to take it slow, but wet enough that he didn't have to worry about tearing her. 

Lena hissed and squirmed, clawing at the desk like she was trying to get away, but her hips were rocking back into his with blatant encouragement. When he was balls deep and grinding against her ass, she cried out his name as if it was a prayer. He pulled out almost as slowly, then plunged home faster. She squeezed around him, deliberately tightening her passage further, and that was the end of any hope he had of controlling his pace.

Still pinning her to the desk with one hand, he thrust with quick, hard motions, slamming into her with enough force to make her skid across the slick surface. Lena scrabbled for a better grip, hanging onto the edge and pushing back against him, trying to hold her place.

"Did I tell you to stop talking?" he panted, barely able to make the words coherent.

Moaning, she arched her back to take him deeper still. "You feel so good," she told him, her voice shaking. "So bloody brilliant, I love the way you fill me up. So hard, so big. Any way you want to take me, I'd let you - standing, sitting, backwards, forwards or upside bloody down. Whatever you w-want... sooo good, oh god..."

"Don't stop," he ordered, fighting as hard as he could against the orgasm that wanted to overtake him. The way she was losing the ability to speak was possibly even more sexy than the wickedly naughty talk itself, and he wanted to hear her dissolve into total incoherence.

Gulping for air, she struggled to obey. "Gorgeous... I don't know why... you think you're n-not... please, _harder_ Jack! I can't... nnngh... I want you so bad... ahh! M-missed you so... much... yes, yes!"

She tightened around him again, then convulsed as she hit orgasm and lost any hope of getting another word out. He slammed into her harder, reveling in the way she squeezed his cock. "Fuck yes, Lena." 

Leaning over, he covered her slight body with his, ignoring the cold hardness of her accelerator against his chest. He put his mouth right next to her ear, and ordered, "Rewind."

Instead of obeying, she stared at him in shock and disbelief over her shoulder. He growled, and bit her earlobe sharply in punishment for disobedience. "Rewind, _now_."

Shuddering, she tapped her hand against the side of her accelerator, and her body turned insubstantial beneath him. Jack stepped back, ignoring the sudden coolness of the air against his wet cock and the protesting ache in his balls, watching as blue light flashed across the desk. The instant she reappeared, gasping, he grabbed her ass in both hands and plunged home again.

He'd timed it right - she'd returned to the second when she was teetering right on the edge of orgasm, and she screamed as his thrust pushed her into a second explosion. The convulsions were much harder this time, her spine arching as she cried out for 'more' and 'mercy' together in a jumbled plea. Releasing his iron grip on control, Jack followed her over the edge, shouting and grinding tight against her ass as he emptied himself inside her.

When he pulled back at last, he left her a sobbing, shivering mess on the desk. Concerned he might have pushed her too far, Jack gently rolled her over and gathered her into his arms. He sank back into his chair with her on his lap, knees on either side of his hips. "Lena?"

"Nnn... hah..." Her head fell limply against his shoulder, and she shuddered under his hands. Worry rolled through him - and then he realized the shudders were from half-hysterical giggles she was too wrecked to let free properly. 

Chuckling, he relaxed into the seat, cradling her against his chest. "Too much?"

"N-n-no." Her voice was raw from screaming, and she swallowed a couple of times to ease her throat. "You s-still... expect me... to talk?" She sounded incredulous.

The accelerator was uncomfortable for both of them, so he tugged at the fastening in silent question. She managed a nod, and he unstrapped the device and lifted it over her head, setting it carefully to one side. Now she wore only her cadet uniform top and boots, with nothing in between. Jack was still mostly dressed, other than his softened cock hanging out of his open fly, but he didn't think either of them was going to have the strength or energy to move soon.

"What did it feel like?" he asked, stroking his hand from the top of her head, over her spine, all the way down to her ass. When she made a happy little sound, he did it again, and again, enjoying the caress as much as she did.

"Intense," she finally got out, mumbling into his shoulder. "Shattering."

"But good?"

To his relief, she nodded. "I can come more than once in a row, but that was... different. My mind was still caught up in the first one, but my body had forgotten and hit the peak just as hard the second time." She snuggled close, and he felt her lips curve against the side of his neck. "Not a half bad start at earning that forgiveness. Uh, but, maybe not something for _every_ time?"

"Don’t worry. I’ve got plenty of other plans for you.” So many fantasies he'd played out in his mind over the last six months. Thinking he would never get a chance to act any of them out, aching every time he pictured her, but unable to stop himself from doing it anyway.

"Good, because I've got a few ideas myself." She finally found the strength to lift her head, smiling that bright, joyous grin that had made him fall so damn hard in the first place. "And I'll have new ones every time you come home." 

Lena paused, and narrowed her eyes at him, a dangerous warning in her expression. "Because you _will_ come home again. Right?"

'Home' had been a dirty word to him for so long. Something he'd lost - no, something he'd had torn away from him, forcibly, by the very people who should have helped him protect it. He'd never thought he would find a new one. Never wanted to, fearing the pain of losing it all over again.

Lena shone her brilliance into the darkness of his soul, and dragged him kicking and screaming back into the light. Now she'd finally drilled the truth into his stubborn skull - it wasn't the light that hurt. The pain came from the lack of it.

"As long as my home is you, I'll always come back," he promised. "No more running. You're too damn fast for me to beat, anyway."

"Bloody right, I am." She was justifiably smug in her success, and kissed him soundly to seal the deal. "You're mine as much as I'm yours, you know."

"Always." That would be true no matter what the future brought. His heart belonged to her.

Apparently this old dog could still learn a new trick, after all.


End file.
